And from one moment to another everything changed. I had to take care and think about the safety of two people from now on. It wasn’t just me anymore. 

Great timing. Not. I only backed my first horse by myself. From the grid. From not being able to touch it for weeks to getting up and riding on my own.

I had so many plans for us.

How is it gonna work – me being pregnant and a youngster? How should I manage to take care of him and the other two? Can I still ride him and if yes, for how long? How can I manage to have horses with a baby? How much will my life change? Am I ready for being a mum?

I had so many questions. I was anxious. 

That was all new for me. Well meant advice from other mothers from all sides, do’s and don’ts, my own expectations, a long list of things that needed to be done before the due date. There was so much pressure. Most of it was produced by myself. 

When I was four months pregnant I stopped riding Mo. Not because I felt unsafe, no, because I felt sick. Baby M didn’t like all the ups and downs. Luckily a good friend (@thequeensstable), who is a professional riding instructor and horse trainer, continued riding him till we brought him home for winter.

At that point I thought it was a great idea to have the horses home, close by, easy to take care of when my boyfriend is on a film job (and because of COVID had to stay at the job in a bubble for 8 weeks). Great. Idea. 

Having horses, being pregnant and having all those hormones does a lot to a woman. Did I mention that I rescued two shetlands the day after I found out I was pregnant? That is what pregnancy hormones do to a woman!!

Anyway, I was so stressed from time to time that I only seldom enjoyed expecting our first (and last!!!) child. 

I hated being pregnant. 

Being used to doing everything on my own made me struggle to realize that I might need some help from time to time.

There were barrels of water that needed to be filled up, hay nets to be stuffed and hung up and and and. Don’t forget the paddock we needed to build because the Shetlands were looking for adventures and got out of the field. Always. Every day. All the time. Thinking of the mad postman and his driving skills and the fog we sometimes have up the mountain, I wasn’t able to sleep at night. I annoyed the poor baby daddy as long as it took, till he finally called his friend who luckily owns a digger and we got a paddock with wood chips, a shed, and sheep fencing sorted. There was one problem solved. 

By October I had to start feeding them hay because there was barely any grass left in the fields. Sure the first two hay suppliers let me down. Knowing I was super pregnant. Not great. So another problem needed to be taken care of. But out of this misery, I found MY hay man. Still getting my hay there and really appreciating the service. Because of the little storage we had, we needed to go every 12 days to get new bales though.

Also, I needed to move and set up fencing every two weeks because we only wanted to use the fields we kept the horses in temporarily. 

It was a lot and I didn’t want any help. Did I mention yet, that I cried a lot and it was all about the damn horses who were supposed to make me happy? 

Anyhow. I was still going deer and bird hunting (till 10 months pregnant), turning out and bringing in the horses, feeding them and walking the dogs every day. 

I didn’t want to ask someone for help. Didn’t want to be a burden. Didn’t want to owe someone something. I did enjoy parts of it, needed it for my routine to not lose my mind thinking of how my life will be with a baby. But still, it was hard work.

By the time Morgan was born I knew that there were people who would be able to take care of the horses. But I had to learn it the hard way. I was wrecked at the end of the pregnancy. 

If I would have known before, how much trouble it would be to have the horses at home, to have to take care of them all by myself, I wouldn’t have done it OR I would have made sure that I had my support system built. 

By now I surrounded myself with people I genuinely trust with my horses. That is my friend Nina @thequeensstable who is also my daughter’s godmother, my farrier who really likes the baba and doesn’t mind listening to five-minute-long WhatsApp podcasts, and me crying because he only asked me how I am.  Also, I have a great vet who stays calm and relaxed even though the grey wilding is a pain and the owner is so nervous that she can’t shut up, while Morgan is in the carrier on my back losing it. Thanks guys! 

Girls, when you are pregnant get yourself a support system. As soon as possible. You are not “weak” and you are not taking less care of your horses because you have people who help you. It is important that you take care of yourself and your unborn baby! They want to help you, they want to take care of you. That is the only way they can be part of this whole process. You are doing the main job. The hard bit. Remember this. 

Even now, the odd time when Morgan has had a bad night and we can’t manage to leave the house early enough to feed Mo, I can text one of the girls to do it for me. That’s priceless.

Also having a boyfriend who is able to take all of this, is priceless. All the tantrums about horse shit. Even though he didn’t have a clue about horses at that point. Thank you for being an amazing dad and partner to a mad German horsewoman who accidentally walked into your shop to buy a shotgun – ended up buying a pointer pup off you and then you not letting me leave in the end. Three years later we are going to build our own dreams and I will take you, The Grassroots Gazette movement, with me on this journey, because we need learning curves to progress, develop and learn from each other. Can’t wait to share my experience with you all.