Last Updated on December 17, 2024 by foxintheforest

There are seasons in life and some of those seasons aren’t what we wanted them to be. My journey into motherhood as a climber, mountaineer, backpacker, and hiker was just that.

This is a piece I wrote a while ago to my dearest newsletter subscribers. (Shameless plug, you should join).

It was written during a time when I felt really raw. In fact, I was sick for 5 straight months – so fun! After I got pneumonia and was literally at my witts end, I wrote this letter to my readers.

Not enough people talk candidly about what it’s like to have babies and young kids. There are even fewer outdoorsy folk (hikers, climbers, mountaineers) that talk about what it’s like to be into an adventurous lifestyle and have a child. And virtually none that aren’t professional athletes.

Throughout the first year and half of my daughter’s life I felt tremendously alone.

There was no one out there that I knew who had a young child and still felt the call to pursue tough things in the outdoors.

ZERO.

I felt like something was wrong with me. That I was somehow failing. That I had made a huge mistake.

And those feelings haunted me for longer than I would have liked them to.

It turns out, that people don’t talk about these things because they do drown.

We all drown in the beginning.

Now that I’m further along in my outdoor parenthood journey, I can safely say that it’s still a little lonely out here, but I feel like I’m drinking from the fire hose a little bit less these days.

And I’m throwing this out into the internet because maybe you feel this way too.

Or maybe you’re curious about what it’s actually like behind the scenes on all of those IG photos with parents backpacking with their 6 month old (spoiler alert, no one sleeps, everyone cries, but somehow it was worth it?) and you may want to have (a) kid(s) one day.

So here’s a little blast from the past.

Post Partum Realities when You Enjoy the Outdoors

Most of you know, I had a baby last year. She’s almost 10 months old now (yikes). I have no intent of ever becoming a mom/parent blogger (gag) – but adventuring with a baby is definitely a big elephant in the room.

A lot of people ask me what it’s like to be an outdoorsy mom. So I figured I’d give you a glimpse into what an outdoor life is really like with a baby.

I rarely talk publicly my experience as a new mom. To be frank, it sucks. Babies suck. You can love your child and still hate parenting a baby. That’s normal and more people should talk about it.

Of course, there are things to be grateful for and I love my child and all of that jazz. But I’m not here to talk about that today. That side of parenting gets a lot of attention and being a parent is about the most complicated thing there is. I’m here to talk about the harsh realities of becoming a mom when a major part of your identity is tied up in your ability to do things and go places.

For starters, I don’t feel “seen” in the parent sphere. I’m either too much or not enough. I’m shamed for wanting to still have a sense of adventure in my life beyond just watching a tiny, helpless human. Shamed for owning a business and not spending every waking moment with my baby. Shamed for having PPD. The list goes on.

You’re supposed to always act grateful. Or I’m supposed to stand up on a pedestal and talk about how everyone can and should camp with their baby – the verdict is still out on this for me personally. Or throw up some BS braggy post about “look at me slaying miles with a child strapped to my chest, living my best life, you can’t even tell I had a kid. #momarms #lovelife” (lol, that never happened – more on that in a second).

But the fact is every little thing about my life changed. I knew things would be different, but I had absolutely no idea how much that change permeates every fiber of your being.

I lost things I wasn’t prepared to lose. Didn’t know I could lose.

Great example, despite working out and climbing up until my due date and having an “easy” birth (spoiler alert: no birth is easy), my body post-partum has been unable to hike more than just a few miles. I lost all of my endurance. Poof! Gone!

For someone whose ability to go and do literally puts food on the table (yes, my blog provides me with an income), losing this is a huge blow.

Climbing has changed for me. I get scared AF now on the easiest climbs. I don’t have the energy to wake up before dawn to go smash my way up a peak. The one thing I had for a reset and to gain some perspective on life is now a terrifying affair – worse than my climbing accident.

Essential parts of my life and my identity have been ripped away from me. And that is a tough thing to work through.

There is this immense pressure – even from some of my closest friends – to “bounce back.” But the truth is, there is no going back. It’s all changed and I’ve got to navigate a new space.

Listen. I’m a pretty hearty and tenacious person. I don’t take no for an answer. I – admittedly – constantly work myself into the ground in pursuit of what I want in life. And I’ve worked hard AF to get where I am.

But the uphill battle I’m facing is riddled with bad beta, false summits, sketchy terrain, and horrible weather.

All of that has had to change. I have a lot less time and energy to give these days. And I can’t do it all.

And yes – I have done things. Things that most parents would label as “insane” or people without children really wouldn’t understand what a challenge it is to go and do some of this stuff.

I took my daughter on her first camping trip at 7 weeks old because it was soul-crushing to be trapped in my house during my favorite season. I had crippling depression and needed to get away. I had a very rare, intense panic attack before we left.

We went on a road trip to remote parts of the Grand Canyon when she was 3 months old so I could get back to working – since there are no maternity benefits for a business owner. We couldn’t hike since baby M didn’t tolerate baby-wearing which made the trip rather challenging to see the things we wanted to do, but couldn’t. We spent a lot of time getting bored at our lodging stuck in nap jail.

And we just got back from visiting Honduras where we attempted to go on a simple, relaxing beach vacay. She brought a chest infection with her and needed emergency medical care which was a stressful and scary experience.

I was supposed to take my annual trip to Moab to scope out some cool things to report on, but the family as a whole has been so ravaged by illness over the past month, we had to cancel. I’m still recovering weeks later and it takes all the energy I have just to go through the motions of my day.

**side note: I was sick for 5 straight months. It was one of the worst times in my entire life. It turns out, I had a medical issue that I didn’t know about that kept getting me sick. It’s since been resolved, but I’ll never forget what that did to my mental health.

Although those things sound really nice and we had a few cool moments. Every single one of them was exceptionally hard. Harder than any day in the mountains.

And I’ve spent 18 hours on the side of a cliff 13,000 feet above sea level on 3 hours of sleep. Parenting is harder than that. Full stop.

So where does that leave me?

It’s a challenging space to completely redefine yourself especially when you’re dealing with long-term sleep deprivation and a being that develops so fast your entire routine changes every 2 weeks.

Do I regret it? Sometimes, sure. I don’t think there’s anything wrong in admitting that – we are all human. More and more I feel an urge to just stop trying to get out there in any capacity. Because even the most simple task in the outdoors has a difficulty level of 1,000 these days.

But at the same time, that notion just never sits well for me long-term. I wasn’t born to be idle. It’s not in my nature.

So I’m stuck in this perpetual state of being pulled back to the essence of who I am and being forced to cope with a new reality. It’s draining.

There is the in-between of course. We’ve heavily modified and adjusted our expectations already. But even that is a losing game of Russian roulette given our past experiences.

What I pictured when I decided to start a family wasn’t this. It was 3 or 4 years from now. When I could reasonably show baby M what makes the world so amazing. But that seems like a fever dream at the moment. A last laugh as my old self gets lowered 6 feet under.

And yes, things will and do change. I get that. But that doesn’t change the present. And it doesn’t change the fact that I didn’t want everything about my life to change.

I have a right to mourn that loss and a right to not go through this process gracefully. Everyone does.

Being a mom is a rocky, complex, and quite frankly fucked space that if I had truly known about beforehand, I probably wouldn’t have done it (ask me again in 3 years).

I constantly remind myself that I was bored pre-kid. Ya – bored. Coming from someone who spends free time swinging leads on 600-foot cliffs and traveling about the world, this says something. Life felt hollow like my purpose was missing.

I wanted something more, but I didn’t need it to swing full force in the other direction. I’m still bored, but in a completely new way.

My hope is I’ll eventually feel differently. Maybe I’ll be able to find that balance I thought I would have when I set out on this journey. Create a new and better self as I redefine my space in this world.

Maybe that means I’ll still be doing extreme things from time to time – when it feels good to me. But maybe I won’t. Who knows?

Trying to see the flickers of light amidst the darkest of caves is tough to do. But I’m trying.

I certainly don’t have any of the answers. Just came here to say that nothing is as it seems. I’m struggling, in a very real way.

A lot of people suffer through this journey – and it looks different for everyone. Personally, I feel like there aren’t enough honest conversations about it – even amongst friends. So if any of this resonates with you, just know you aren’t alone. And if it doesn’t – no big deal – parenthood is deeply personal and I respect that.

Parenting a Toddler as an Avid Hiker, Backpacker, and Climber

So how did I end up? Well – here’s what was on my mind 18 months later.

So today I woke up and thought – you know what? I want to start a fight on the internet today. 🥊

…kidding…

However, I’ve been known to throw out more than one hot take on my newsletter and I’m at it again this week.

If this speaks to you, amazing, if it doesn’t – no hard feelings – the unsubscribe button is at the bottom of the email.

I’ve been reflecting on the journey of not being too sure about having a child because of the adventurous life I lead and having one anyway. (That’s your trigger warning).

My stories are my own and they’re not for everyone. So if you choose to continue reading, I’m not trying to attack anyone’s life choices or call out some right or wrong – life is far more nuanced than that. I’m simply sharing my story.

It is okay if that’s not your cup of tea and there’s nothing wrong about feeling different. Your experience is just as valid as mine.

Now that the PSA is out of the way – let’s get spicey. 🌶️

I keep seeing these completely lame posts on social media that go like this:

“Me summiting another mountain instead of giving my parents grandkids.”

Effing. CRINGE. 🤢

The PROBLEM with these types of posts is that they insinuate that if you choose to have a child, you aren’t allowed to go out and do dangerous, adventurous, or even challenging things. That your personal life, goals, and dreams are somehow over.

This narrative is echoed in parent spaces as well. You are expected – nay – required to give up your entire sense of self when you become a parent – particularly when you become a mother. If you’re giving your all to your kid – especially your younger child, you are the villain. How dare you even think about doing something for you – much less something that could be perceived as risky and takes *gasp* multiple days???

Hold my non-alcoholic beer b*tch!

I’m proposing something radical.

You can absolutely be a great parent and partake in “selfish” outdoor activities that push your boundaries if that speaks to you. In fact, you were meant to.

And here’s the secret recipe. Spoiler alert: You don’t need to do anything extra.

Let me explain.

Some of you may remember, a year and change back I wrote this soul-bearing email about the realities of early parenthood. I was in a deep hole of PPD that took psychedelic therapy to pull myself out of. Frankly, it was the darkest period of my life.

Flash forward 26 months and the scene is much different.

To understand just how drastic things are, I’m going to flat-out brag, but I have a point you likely won’t see coming.

• I summited 13 peaks this year…I think. I honestly stopped counting.
• I traveled to 3 countries.
• I backpacked harder – tackling the toughest route in the Grand Canyon and even going on my first solo backpacking adventure.
• ​I stood on top of a continent with 12 other mothers.

And I did those things without having time to train hard, mentally prepare, or even give them much thought. I just got up, got packed, and freakin’ went for it.

The question I kept asking myself each time I got back was, how?

Yes, it goes without saying that those things would not have been possible had it not been for a fully supportive partner, an incredible (self-built) village that I’ve been able to cultivate since having my child, and the financial resources to do so. And NO not everyone who is a parent has this. It’s important to acknowledge this, but it’s not the point of this email.

So how do I go about doing these things with a fraction of the time, energy, and prep work I used to have?

The answer is quite simple. My daughter.

The growth I have had to make to just survive everyday life with a toddler has made me 100 times stronger than I ever could have been pre-kid. Full stop.

Surviving the challenges of having a kid in a late-capitalist society I have found a place in my mind to go where I can endure, grind, and get to where I need to be while simultaneously listening to what I need.

So where I would have once turned around on the trail, I can now keep moving forward. And if I do feel I need to turn around, I feel zero guilt about it and still find complete fulfillment in what I’m doing. I’m outside connecting with my most authentic self. And that is true strength.

Childbirth enabled me to tap into an endurance reserve I never thought existed. It’s allowed me to hike harder, and longer. I’ve even become a long-distance trail runner – something I would laugh at before my daughter.

My daily routine is training. I chase, lift, spin, squat, crunch, and curl more than any gym workout can give me. I’m 38, a birthing parent, and in the best shape of my life, even though my body is aging and forever changed from childbirth.

And living a life where there is a curveball around every bend. Plans that are less about making sure everything goes right and more about understanding your options means that I have the CONFIDENCE to walk my butt off the couch and into the deepest wilderness areas without a second thought.

None of those skills existed for me before I was a parent. I was far more meticulous and had to spend energy doing a lot more prep work. I needed to feel “ready.”

And most importantly, there were things I wouldn’t try because they felt beneath me, not me, or like something I just couldn’t do.

I’m much more willing to take on big dreams, try new things, and just go out there to “see what happens.”

But all of that isn’t even the best part.

I have found endless fulfillment, joy, and awe in my time to do these things than I did before I became a parent.

It’s not even comparable.

The times I’ve had to be away and be my own person have been transformative in a way I never thought possible.

I’ve opened more doors than I even knew existed. I feel more like my truest self than I ever have.

And it wouldn’t have been possible without the tornado of a 2.5-year-old that is a permanent fixture in my life. First, she tore me down to nothing. Then she built me back up into a person I love.

Circumstances are at play to be sure. But I’m a mom. I’m pushing my boundaries in the outdoors. And doing it for me and no one else. I’ll die on that hill because it’s unrealistic to tell me that I can’t be my own person because I’m raising another.

I’m not suggesting that if you don’t have kids, you’re somehow lesser than, that’s far from the truth.

But what I am saying is that if you’re a parent drowning in the mental load, sleepless nights, school schedules, activities, mind games, and monotony…congratulations!

You have a skill set that enables you to simply pack up your bag, walk out of your house, and have what it takes to go do hard things outside. So when opportunity strikes and it feels authentic to you, you can simply go for it because you have the endurance, strength, and fortitude of a parent.

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