A Horse Trainer & Delicate Subject Matter

I'm not sure if my husband will be too thrilled about the fact that I've posted the above picture of him. But I think it's pretty adorable. In light of the pregnancy roller coaster I've put him through lately, I felt he deserved to have his own blog today – to tell him how much I appreciate him.

I appreciate the 1:00 am strawberry milkshakes he makes me. And the baths he runs me (not too hot of course). And the pedicures he's been sending me for, since I can no longer reach my own toes.

And I really appreciate the fact that stands by me when I'm having an emotional meltdown. Or a whinefest. Or I'm groaning about the weather and the fact that I could have been wearing flip-flops in Arizona right about now… Not that there have been a lot of these occasions… Sigh.

Aww, who am I kidding??

These pregnancy hormones are tricky things! Clay just smiles and nods, rubs my back and then and asks if a glass of chocolate milk will make it better.

I am especially proud of my husband for our most recent accomplishment: prenatal classes. Let me tell you – to say that I was nervous about how these were going to go, would be an understatement. I mean, Clay and I are very comfortable dealing with mares and foals, even if we are required to assist with the deliveries. We have memorized the protocols for proper sanitation and protecting newborn foals from disease. We know how to assess a placenta and when to intervene with regards to lactation, or not. And even though little foals seem so fragile at birth, we know how to confidently aid them in their first few precious days of life.

But the difference between little foals and little humans, I have come to realize, is that little foals can run within a few hours of being born.

With that in mind, I signed Clay and myself up for prenatal classes every Tuesday for the next 10 weeks.

I had several images in my mind about my how my horse-trainer-other-half might react to said weekly 1.5 hour seminars… It would mean I would have to pull him out of the barn early Tuesday night. And with his thoughts still on the horse(s) he could have worked in those few hours, my husband would have to endure lectures about things like the RH Factor, gestational diabetes, pre-eclampsia and of course, all the stages of labor. There would be slide presentations and videos… Oh Gawd, yes, videos!

It was bad enough that I would be squirming in my seat on some occasions. Why should I make my husband also go through it?

Then I started to wonder – would we be only the people in the room wearing cowboy boots? Turns out that yes, we would be. However, that concern was really small potatoes considering the nature of the subject all the parents-to-be in the room came to learn about. No one has ever looked at our feet in any of the classes we have attended so far. But just to be safe, it's probably best to continue to leave the spurs at home…

Aside from that, my other concerns about these prenatal classes have really faded into oblivion. We have a wonderful silver-haired teacher named Sally Ann Elliott, who possesses the flamboyancy of any motivational speaker and the humor of a professional comedian. Immediately, my husband was really taken by her wit and we found ourselves laughing, even in our first class. That's when we realized, it would take a special person to be able to teach such classes in view of the delicate subject matter that needed to be covered.

Since that first class, Clay is the one making sure I'm ready to go on time each Tuesday. He is also very good about shoveling our steps to ensure I don't have a slippery slope to walk down to the jeep. He makes sure I have a milkshake in hand before we get there. And he patiently walks up the 3 flights of stairs it takes to get to our class, behind me, at my pace (there is nothing fast about my stair-master skills these days.)

Not that Clay would ever admit to being the caring and gentle-natured soul he is. Or the fact that he has accepted this pregnancy with grace, maturity and happiness.

After all, words like “grace,” “maturity” and “gentle-natured” are terms reserved for horses. (That stuff in any other context is for wussies, man! Sheesh…)

There are fears of course, but in my mind, my husband has totally manned up for this new adventure we have embarked on. But as you all probably know already – to say that my life with Clay is an adventure, would be another understatement.

Comments

  1. Baby steps . . . it’s apparent the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. We are lucky Webster Women!

  2. Very nice Jenn, and yes it is an adventure everyday ;)