crag

38 Weeks and 600 Feet

Whale in a harness
Thirty eight weeks pregnant and I thought “Let’s climb R&D!” It’s a classic Leavenworth slab route with easy to moderate climbing ranging from 5.5 to 5.7 on the ever popular Mountaineer’s Domb. It’s four pitches and 600 vertical feet of solid climbing. It was the last climbing trip my husband and I would have by ourselves.

So there I was, in my five point harness and my humongous body, resting at the bottom of the wall, looking up, wondering if this was a good idea? Really, my husband and our other climbing partner were more concerned that I would go into labor half way up the route. Honestly, how cool would that be? Three hundred feet up, screaming bloody murder and bam! Baby C falls out of me, only to be hanging on by the umbilical┬ácord! Come on! Talk about EPIC. Believe it or not, climbing at 38 weeks pregnant is difficult. Not only do you weigh an extra 30-40 pounds, but you’re carrying it mostly in your stomach, so balance is completely off and not to mention, lifting your tub of lard up a vertical wall is extremely taxing! Who knew?

Up the buttress we went! The first pitch is mostly made up of low fifth class climbing, but pleasant all the same. For a second, I thought everything would be a piece of cake. I moved slowly up the rock, onto the second belay station to greet my hyperventilating husband. He was overjoyed there was no baby hanging out of me but before we could rejoice, we looked above and grimaced. A chimney. Oh god, not a chimney. For those of you non climbers, a chimney is a rock cleft with parallel sides just big enough to fit the climber in. The climber uses opposite pressure with their entire body to shimmy up the structure. Normally, this is a fun feature because you can use nearly any part of your body to get up it. However, when there is a giant yoga ball attached to your middle, a chimney is a cause for concern. Think about Violet from Willy Wonka in the Chocolate Factory getting lodged in a chimney. I was sure I would burst and amniotic fluid would shoot out of me given the right amount of pressure. Essentially, I would be juiced. my husband went first, reached the belay station and nervously waited to see my head pop up from below. No amount of “think skinny” will help you here ladies. Squeezing and grunting, and with a pull here and squish there, I was out! All fluids retained! Now all that remained was a couple of fist jams in a hand crack and lie back flake…

The last pitch was an easy jaunt up slab. Upon reaching the top I was greeted with a creepily long hug (even for my husband). It was a hug that said “we will never do that again.” Once our partner Dave reached the top, we concluded this route was an excellent 38 weeks pregnant route with tons of great features from chimneys, to handcracks and lie back flakes. Classic!

The scramble down was more painful than the entire climb. Had I been in a non-incubator form, it would’ve been much more manageable. Once we reached the bottom, we packed the gear up and headed back to our campsite for some delicious wood stained chicken…that’s another story.

Hindsight, would I have done it again? Abso-friggin-lutely! How can I risk the life of my unborn child like that? I could’ve DIED! Baby killer! No really, I would do it again and I would encourage any healthy, strong and conscious mother to be, to continue doing what you do and love. Sure, there was an added fear, but at no point did I feel unsafe. Had I felt my child’s life was at risk at any moment, there would be no question as to stopping. I was and still am confident in my capabilities and risk assessment, so need to bring out the shame police!

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