The Mountains are calling, and I must go! I have birthed and begun raising two beautiful children with my husband. (This year, on September 10, will mark our 6 year wedding anniversary.) We have become home owners together, we have become parents together, we have moved states together, and so much more. He has always been my rock, been supportive of my goals, my dreams, and my career; he is such an amazing husband and father. Something I have always admired of him, is how supportive and loving he is. We have now reached a minor crux in our journey, a crux that I am loving, and he is struggling through.
This poor guy knew what he was getting involved with. A woman who loves birth work, but also, a woman who has a love for the mountains.
I took a pause while I birthed and breastfed our babies and our family blossomed, but it was no secret I had a deep and profound love and calling for the high peaks; the mountains whose summits daunted people, the mountains, the glaciers, the snow bridges, the ice falls, the solitude, the peaks. A calling that began years before we met.
Our children have reached the age where they are old enough I can leave to climb. That, in and of itself, has challenges created by our culture - that a woman is often expected to be home with the children, that it is often only acceptable for the man to leave and pursue dreams. With the support of my husband, I can move beyond these stereotypes and pursue my passion, and attempt to gain the summits of those all encompassing parts of earth that call me.
When I go there, I am at home. When I go there, I am at the whim of the weather and will of the mountain. This is much like the nuances of the job I do with families, at will and whim of laboring women, but here, I am at the will and labor and her unpredictable nuances. But this comes with much more risk. Much more trepidation.
He knew this day would come, but I feel he is still shocked and uncertain, and wishing the call of the mountains would have subsided. But much like labor, it was due to come.
My love began on my "home mountain" back in Arizona, when I first tasted the outdoors on a backpacking trip on the Weatherford Trail loop of Humphrey's Peak. And my first trip back into this world I have longed for began on Mount Adams in Washington.
Mountaineering is a lot like labor, and birth, and yes, that even includes the postpartum period. The similarities - the highs and the lows, the struggles and the triumphs - with birth are striking. If you would like to follow them, I will be sharing my summit quests here. (I have strongly considered donning my wedding dress, as these peaks were my first true love. So that could make for some interesting photo ops!) To keep tabs on these journeys, and to read more obnoxious #mountaineeringislikebirth posts, just search the category, Trip Reports.