On February 11, 2012, I traveled from Chamonix to Switzerland to visit my mom and go ski touring in the blistering cold. An Arctic cold snap had hit Europe and I was running out of “reasonable” tours to do while pregnant around Chamonix. I was a few days past my due date and needed to find tours on which I could just strip the skins off my skis and glide back down to my car should I be going into labor. The tours had to be somewhat close to a hospital too. My mom – an avid climber and multiple time ski mountaineering competition winner – wasn’t too psyched on me skiing while pregnant. But she joined me on a few tours, soon realizing that there was no changing my mind and that I was being really careful and that well, it really was safe enough. We skied 3300ft that day.

 

I stayed in Leysin that night, the little sunny Swiss ski resort I grew up in and where my parents still live. The following day was yet another bluebird sunny Siberian cold day and my mom was determined to keep me at home, sure that the only reason I hadn’t yet given birth was that I was too active. But I felt that every day could be my last day of skiing, since I could be going into labor at any time. So we went out for a shorter ski tour above the house. We got home by 4pm. An hour later, my stomach started to ache a little so I thought that it wouldn’t hurt to get checked out. We drove down to the hospital, where Adam met us. 6hours later, Olivia was born at fifteen minutes past midnight.

As they say, nothing can prepare you for giving birth. Not even your growing belly. You’d think that with so many women having given birth over time, you’d get a sense of what it’s like! My labor was as painful as it was quick. My best description of it is this: coming out of the water after having fallen off your surfboard and resurfacing only to get drowned over and over again by huge waves that don’t let you catch your breath, wishing for someone to make it stop, wondering if it will ever stop, while the waves get bigger bigger, and closer and closer together. A French comic said: “When women say that giving birth is the most beautiful day of their life, I can’t help but wonder what the other days of their lives are like!!!”. As excruciating as labor and giving birth is, it’s true that once the baby is crawling on your belly, staring straight into your eyes, you instantly forget the nightmare you just experienced.

We – Olivia, Adam and I – were all that once both startled, in awe. I wondered how such a perfect being could have been inside of me, already formed, with eyes, ears, a mouth, a head, a belly, arms, legs, etc. Adam and I were both mesmerized and slightly in denial of the miracle of life. It’s all at the same time unreal, magical, beautiful, surreal, moving and right then, you know that your life will never be the same. Or do you?

 

These very words are what’s kept me from having a child for so long. I love my life. I have worked long and hard to make my life what it is. And I wouldn’t trade it in for anything. I often felt that when people said that you’re life will never be the same, it was said with a negative edge. I was therefore all the more determined that while having a child would change my life, it would be for the better: I would still be me, I would still do what I love to do. I would find a way to make it all work, because I strongly believe that happy parents lead to a happy baby.

Yet, the first week, all I wanted was to be a mom to this little wonder in my life. There was so much to learn: changing diapers, bathing her, learning how to care for her, marveling over her, breastfeeding, learning to be a family of three and “sharing” the little being that had grown inside of me with Adam. But soon though, sitting for hours-long feedings at a time, listening to her cries, not knowing how to help close those beautiful beady eyes at night and sleep deprivation all got to me. One evening, as I felt overwhelmed, I grabbed the trash from Adam’s hand and said that I would be taking the trash out, and no one would get in my way of doing so. I NEEDED to get out, breathe some fresh air, be alone, for even 5 mins. Suddenly, taking the trash out seemed like the greatest adventure ever! Adam encouraged me to get out of the house. But I think it’s innate for moms to want to feel irreplaceable to the child. So, when 10 days into it, I went skate skiing, guilt was my silent partner as I glided down the smooth track. I rushed home after an hour, feeling like a bad mom for having enjoyed my time outside so much, for having enjoyed something other than my little one. But I also realized that I was all the more excited to be with her, and her cries no longer felt like daggers stabbing my heart. What if my all consuming passion was actually beneficial to helping me be a good patient mother?

The following day, I tried to go ski touring up the nearby piste in Les Houches. I got there, put my ski boots on my feet, put my skins on my skis, called Adam, heard her cry, took my boots off and drove home. “She needs my milk, she needs me”, I thought. I felt that no one could do this job as well as me. It’s hard to break the bond that connects a mother to the little being that was in the womb for so long. But I am lucky that Adam is such an eager Dad, as happy to be with her as to be in the mountains. He encouraged me to try getting out again the next day. I ski toured for an hour and went home. The next day, I toured a little longer. Over that week-end, while Adam was guiding, I even let my mom watch her while I went out to breathe some fresh air and reconnect to myself. Gradually, the tours got a little longer (not too long or my boobs would burst!!!), I was able to pump more milk, and I soon realized that in order to be a good mom to Olivia, I needed to feel good myself and that doing what I love most – being in the mountains – enabled me to get perspective and feel energized. The time away didn’t only benefit me: it also gave Adam the space to be a Dad to Olivia without me looking over his shoulder all the time. Maybe I’m just trying to justify what I do, but I feel now that it is essential for Olivia to know at a young age that she is loved not only by me, but that others love her (nearly) as much as I love her, and that she can be happy even when I’m not around.

Olivia is now 10 weeks old. She has nearly doubled her weight and is a much loved, thriving and very smiley baby girl.My life has changed in that I am now a mom and she will forever be my daughter. I learn everyday from her. She is my priority. But I am also learning how to keep being me and do what I love to do, to find the balance that enables me to be a good, patient and loving mom to her. When I’m up there, all I want is to be with her. But if I stayed home 24/7, I wouldn’t have perspective and might end up feeling frustration, which isn’t good for anyone. So I get out on most days to ski tour, ice climb, climb, run and also guide.

I don’t go out for as long as I normally would, but I am more efficient and appreciate my time away all the more. The rest of the time, I am with her.

I figured out a way to work while she sleeps on me and I take her on hikes in my baby carrier.

 

 

 

 

 

That way, it feels for both of us as though we were still out together in the mountains like she was when she was in my womb – those were some of the most beautiful moments in my life.

 

 

 

 

While I love every second of being a mom to her, I know that I need perspective. I can get it by taking a little time for myself each day, and reconnecting to who I am outside of motherhood. I am lucky to have a support system – Adam and my parents mainly – who enable me to do that too. I also live in a place, which enables me to get a quick workout without having to drive. People will always judge how you do things and have an opinion as to how it should be done, but what I have learnt so far is that there is no one way to be a good parent, there is only the way that works for you, your baby and your family. And to feel good about the process. It’s still early days and I know that my life will change as Olivia grows up and I will grow with her. Yet, I am determined to set as an example for her, that parenthood doesn’t have to be a frustrating, sacrificial experience. I want her to see that life goes on, but that it is only more beautiful by having her in it.

 

Adventures, before and after:

When I first told people I was going to be a father, most people’s initial reaction was to tell me how “you’re life is going to change.”  Some people even told me that my old life was “over.” For a climber and professional mountain guide this is a tough notion to grasp.  I won’t lie, I loved my life prior to parenthood, and the thought of it going away was so disheartening that I denied my wife’s pregnancy for quite some time.  Denial is an incredibly effective strategy and despite watching my wife’s tummy grow for nine months, I sat in the delivery room, amidst the chaos, still not totally convinced that I was going to leave the room as a new Dad and then, Olivia arrived.One thing I remember vividly from the birth was the look of bliss on my wife’s face, and the thought in my mind: okay, what now!?

Well, after two months, I may not be an authority on parenting, but I
will tell you that climbing and dealing with a new baby are more compatible than one may think…  In fact, after
extensive research, I will even say that climbers and skiers have a distinct advantage over other parents in handling the challenges of a new baby.  The three biggest complaints I heard from new parents was: the lack of sleep, changing diapers and dealing with the crying.  These are things that climbers and skiers are well trained to handle and it is just a matter of adjusting to a new context.

Every parent I have talked to complains about the lack of sleep, but when was the last time your climbing buddy returned from their Alpine trip and whined about getting up at 2am?  In the climbing world, this is simply known as is the “Alpine start.” While most people are in bed sleeping peacefully, many of us are up with our headlamps, downing espressos and setting off for the day’s adventure.  That may be heading to Long’s peak, Rainier, Mont Blanc, the Matterhorn or you name it, but year round, mountain enthusiasts are up well before the general public, doing what they love.  The name “dawn patrol” didn’t come about from people leaving the car at 9am.  So, when your newborn starts crying at 2am for a little snack, make sure to have that
headlamp handy (we use it to have dim light in the room) and think about that trip up the Diamond later in the summer, leaving from the car at two has never sounded so easy!

The second biggest complaint I heard about parenting was about changing diapers.  Here, the skiing crowd has a distinct advantage, particularly the randonnee folks. Rather than dread the diaper change, it should be embraced more like a competition.  Think about a transition… you just broke trail up some slope to get fresh tracks and then some split-boarder just burned up your track planning to poach your descent.  Now you can sit there and fold your skins neatly, have a sip of hot tea and watch someone else reap the rewards of all your hard work trail breaking… I don’t think so, you rip those skins, stuff them down your jacket and light it up?  That’s the way to approach the diaper change: strip, fold and dispose!  When babies are going through 10-12 diapers a day think about how much free time this new approach will add up to…

Lastly, everyone hates crying.  Indeed it is a horrible feeling when your newborn continues to cry despite your best attempts at soothing them.  But no matter how easy your baby may be or how great a parent you are, accepting some amount of crying is simply part of the game.  Here again, climbers, particularly rock climbers, have an advantage.  If you’re not convinced just visit your local sport crag for an afternoon and you will witness: screaming, yelling, crying, shrieking, pouting and if you’re lucky, grunting!  Every belayer out there has dealt with a difficult leader at one time or another and dealing with a crying infant
is very similar.  First, do your best to sooth, to help, voice encouragement, shout beta, but at some point you just have to  ignore.  Luckily, after a nice crying fit, most newborns seem to fall asleep as if nothing happened unlike your climbing partner who will whine the whole ride home justifying why they couldn’t send.

There is no question that having children is full of challenges and maybe it should be approached like doing a big climb.You leave the trailhead before dawn full of optimism, but you can never be entirely sure what the outcome will be.It is easy to get stressed over all the uncertainties and the dangers, but you’ll enjoy the experience much more if you just take things step by step.  It’s not worth worrying about the summit only to miss the sunrise over the ridge. Over the past 18 years, I have stood on top of a lot of summits around the world, done some amazing climbs and skied some incredible snow, but little has compared to watching Olivia smile for the first time or stare back into my eyes.  So while I adjust to the changes of this new life I will continue just as I have with my mountain pursuits: with enthusiasm and excitement for the adventures that lie ahead.

Pregnancy has been one of the best journeys of my life. It’s not over, but I am already starting to feel nostalgic about not seeing my belly grow everyday, accompany me on adventures or where ever I go. But I am also excited to meet the person who lives inside of me. I mean, how weird is that? I think I can grasp that there is someone growing in my belly because of the kicks, the undulating waves under my skin, my bulging profile, but maybe you just can’t come to the full realization of what is really happening until the wee one is in your arms. I don’t know that yet. And that’s the magic of it all: not knowing, being accepting to what ever is coming your way and making the best of the adventure you started on.

And what an adventure it’s been! My baby isn’t born yet, but it’s been to the top of many climbs and mountains with me, while I was guiding this summer and later climbing for myself. When climbing stopped feeling good, I switched to biking, hiking and swimming. I wanted this time of my life to be about exposing myself to new things – since my life has been all consumed by climbing and the mountains for most of my life – because it’s what I would like my child’s life to like. So, I traded my climbing shoes for pedal and bike cleats to ride in California and Utah and later, for paddles while Adam and I discovered sea kayaking together in the Bahamas, and eventually for cross country skis with my mom in Finland. But I missed the mountains and when winter hit our home in Chamonix over Christmas, I was all excited to get back on my skis. Hiking downhill was a little painful because my baby pushed down heavily on my pelvis because of the impact of each step I took, so skiing came as a relief!

Ski touring is a lot like hiking, only you’re on snow, pushing skis uphill but you get to enjoy the rewards of your hard earned climb, cruising down beautiful untracked powder. Of course, being pregnant, you need to pick what you ski and how you ski it:

– avalanche terrain is not appropriate unless you know that conditions are really stable; this has been a great opportunity for me to explore more mellow tours that I could later come back to and do with clients;

– you need to reel it in, skiing at a slower pace, keeping your eyes doubly peeled for what is coming: rocks, branches, trees, holes, etc. Skiing in a whiteout can also be a concern but I usually send my partner ahead so they can show me the way and give the terrain perspective with their track;
– listen to your body: it’s never easy to turn around, but what matters is to listen to your body and feel good about what you are doing. I know that I can tour a few thousand feet uphill before the baby seems to be stretching in all direction making it uncomfortable to keep going. It feels like the baby is putting its hands out and saying: “ok, that was good, let’s go down now, am over it”.

– find partners to join you on your adventure: when I’m not guiding, I often go ski touring on my own and I love it: you can go at your own pace, listen to an audiobook, go up, go down and be home whenever you want. But really, sharing outdoor adventures with friends is one of the most precious things in life and this has taken a whole new meaning for me during pregnancy. I went out with lots of different friends and they always watched out for me, making sure I was ok, worrying about me and it felt good to be on other side of the fence. Although guiding is my life and I love every minute of it, it also felt really good to be indulging in my passion with friends whom I didn’t have to watch out for and just be enjoying ski touring for what it is, without worrying about pleasing other people or about being out there training for guide courses. It’s been an amazing way to reconnect to what I love to do and why I love being in the mountains so much.
– the best thing has been to take my little bump along on the journey. whose to say if she enjoyed it like I did, but I get a feeling that she did. Of course, it’s my interpretation of it but have you ever been out with someone when everything is flowing, and seeing how good they feel and how much they love being out is contagious? that’s how I feel when I go out with my bump. So, who’s to say…

The hardest part about my “adventurous ” pregnancy has been people’s judgments on how I chose to live my pregnancy. I’ve had an amazing pregnancy, suffering very little from the symptoms that women usually suffer from. Maybe the main reason for that was that I felt I was doing a good deed by taking my baby out for rides, ski tours, and many other adventures, breathing in fresh air, sharing my love for the outdoors with her. “Happy Mom, Happy Baby” is the saying, right? These have been times of deep connection with my baby to be. It was hard at first, because I was guiding a lot and sometimes taking risks that I felt were inappropriate for my baby and knowing that didn’t feel good. Once the guiding season was over, I was able to listen to my body and to what felt ok for both me and the baby. Although I appreciated people’s concerns for both of our health, I also felt that it was really intrusive that people had an opinion on what I should or shouldn’t do. I live in ski resort and the mecca of alpinism, Chamonix, France – and my doctor here deals with more athletic people than probably most ObGyn will ever see. When I asked him if what I was doing was ok, his eyes popped wide open, a smile came to his face and he said: “I only wish I could come along on the tours as well! what you’re doing is great for you and the for the baby. Just don’t go skiing at resorts where there is a risk of people skiing into you. But there is no counter indication to ski touring!”. So, I have seized this opportunity and ran with it. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

 

I know that this is only the start of people judging what they perceive parenthood should be like. What has held me back for so long from having children is people always saying how much your life is going to change, how your life is going to end. But I strongly believe that you chose your life – parenthood, pregnancy, work, etc. – and you make it what you want it to be. My mom was cross country skiing the day she went into labor. My parents kept traveling and climbing despite having children and all our shared adventures is what made me who I am today: they opened my eyes to new cultures, to adventures and traveling, to living a life outside the norm and it’s made my life that much richer. I am sure people judged them for their choices, but they stuck to what they thought was best for them and for us and that has inspired me more than anything in life. Taking the path less traveled is not always the easiest solution, but it might just be the richest. I hope I can offer at least as much to my child.