Each week in “Let’s Discuss” we open a different topic up for discussion. Have a discussion starter? Email it to [email protected].
This week’s prompt arrived in the form of an open letter from an EN reader, who wishes to remain anonymous. She’s pregnant, and feeling alienated from her eventing buddies: “I feel like in the horse world, pregnancy is looked at as the end of the world sometimes. My ‘friends’ have definitely treated it that way.”
An open letter to my non-pregnant horse friend:
Dear Horse Friend,
I saw your weekend was full of triumphs and ribbons! That’s amazing! I tried to call you when I thought you might be on your way (since it’s a long drive and I know you have Bluetooth), but to no avail. I was surprised because this used to be a time when we caught up, but that’s OK, I know you’re busy.
Instead I stalked your weekend on EventEntries. I didn’t think you’d mind. You used to call me sometimes if you had a good round, or a bad one, and I’d like to think that I was a good listener but I didn’t expect a call. It’s funny, I didn’t expect one last weekend either.
Here’s the thing, Horse Friend: The minute I told you I was pregnant it was like a switch went off and all of a sudden you could not talk to me about anything. We all of a sudden couldn’t talk about life, not even the horses. Sure I’m not riding right now, but I still support your dream. I’m still the same human except right now I’m petting my beloved unicorn instead of competing in fall events.
So here it is. I’ve tried to text you about your horse. I’ve tried to call you to see how you’re doing. I never mention that you don’t even attempt to reach out or to ask how I’m doing or how I’m feeling. You’ve never asked how I’m handling not riding (for your information it’s killing me softly). I never needed your sympathy; I needed you to remember that I’m not broken. I’m just pregnant. In a few months, I won’t be. I’ll have a baby and I’ll have two horses and through some sort of controlled chaos I’ll hopefully find time to get back in the saddle and back competing in my subterranean division.
The difference, however, won’t only be that I’ll juggle all that with a kid on my hip like SO MANY OTHERS already do, but you will not be a part of it in any way shape or form. I’ll hopefully have found a different network of *gulp* horse MOM friends who are also somehow managing to do what I’m doing. And so help me if six months, a year, two years, 10 years down the road you call me with THAT phone call telling me YOUR wonderful news. I will wholeheartedly congratulate you, but also tell you goodbye and if you catch me on a bad day, probably give you a little piece of my mind as well.
Goodbye, horse friend. I’m sorry I seem broken or for some reason unapproachable or unrelatable to you. It’s just a baby.
Signed,
Your (pregnant) Horse Friend
Notes about the author: I event Beginner Novice because I’m a chicken and because I didn’t start riding horses until I was in college (so I skipped the fearless leader stage). I have an OTTB and an AQHA both geldings. I’m lucky enough to have my horses living in my backyard in Maryland. BadEventer is my spirit animal and I like and share her posts so much she probably thinks I’m a low-level stalker. I love Horseware Ireland stuff and have mostly hand-me-down everythings. I’m never going to the Olympics.
The author insists that she has “every intention of getting right back in the saddle as soon as possible, dark circles under my eyes and all,” and says, “It’s not the end of the world for me” — but the hurt feelings remain.
EN readers: Can any of you out there relate, offer words of advice or share a different perspective? Let’s discuss.
