It never crossed my mind that I might, at some point, actually fall while climbing. I know, duh, it is a possibility, I just hadn't considered it. I have been very thorough with whomever is belaying me. Checking and double checking that everyone is double backed, locked and loaded. I make sure that my belayer knows to keep me tight so I don't go far if I was to fall. All the precautions were there, and I felt safe.
A few nights ago I was in the gym, same old same old. I was warmed up, it was my last hard climb of the session. I placed my foot on a positive but slick foot hold, and stretched up for a far reaching hand hold. SLIP. My foot skated off and off I went. I was dangling there in space when I realized I had actually fallen. During which time I tightened my abs as much as they would tighten (reflexes), so tight in fact that I had a hard time getting them to relax. I re-situated myself to a more comfortable resting spot and contemplated what had just happened. I sat there, waiting for the contractions to start. But there was nothing. My breath wasn't labored, my body felt fine. I was fine. So I kept climbing, I finished the route and called it a day.
Even though everything seemed well and good, I needed to feel the baby move before I was on a path towards ease of mind. I sat down to take off my climbing shoes and put on my regular shoes and bam bam bam goes the baby. Knocking around in there like nothing out of the ordinary had happened.
I would have been fine had the voices of the hundreds of people who have said to me,
"You aren't still climbing are you?"
"Oh that's so dangerous, what about the baby?"
"You shouldn't be climbing, should you?"
And even though I know how to answer each and every one of their questions and comments. Even though I know that everything is fine and that climbing feels better than walking. Even though the baby was moving, I didn't get a single contraction...
The ghost-like voices in my head filled me with anxiety. It took me two days of talking myself, talking to the baby, talking to my medical practitioner friends for me to let go of the notion that I had damaged the baby by falling a 1/4" on top-rope.
I'm fine,
the babies fine,
if something irregular happens with the baby, it has nothing to do with my climbing. If mama is happy, baby is happy.
How much better can I take care of the growing life in my belly than to eat well, be well, and choose activities that give me peace of mind.
F*** the police.