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When your hunting pants don't fit



This past fall, my routine became almost comical.  I would leave my backpack on the ground, climb into my treestand, get settled and unbutton my wool pants.

Four years ago, I wore base layers with monkey-thumbs to hide the Queeze-Away bands that I wore around my wrists.  I never got sick, but those early morning breakfasts and treks to the Sky Condo were a little more challenging when I was trying to hide a pregnancy.  Dad makes sure that I am always secure and comfortable when I am sitting 10-16 feet up in my treestands but if he knew I was pregnant, I was not sure how far off the ground he would allow me to be. So, I kept my first pregnancy a secret during the entire season.

I hunted, hiked and pulled the same 10 hour days with Dad that we always did.  I would fall asleep right after dinner, but the fresh air and adventure of being in the woods kept me going.   Hubby shot his first buck ever that season; a small crotch horn and for me, the pressure was on to get one myself.  The next day, I shot my own crotch horn, which weighed more and had more bone on his head (I am slightly competitive.)  The best part was that I had had a successful season while pregnant with my son.

Fast forward to today and I have a kiddo who out eats me when it comes to meat, loves to fish and has informed everyone that he plans to shoot a Black bear, Grizzly and Wildebeest with his bow and arrow.  He overheard me talking about turkey hunting this spring and eagerly said that he wants to go. He is anxious to get into the woods and we are excited for him to start sitting and watching for wildlife.  

I did the same thing last fall that I had the first time; Dad didn’t need to know I was pregnant until it was necessary, which turned out to be half way through the season when I got sick.  I had proven that I could hunt while pregnant the first time around so I continued to climb into my treestands to hunt.  I was not dying, just pregnant.

Hubby shot a nice 6-pointer on opening day of rifle season and Dad and I continued to hunt. I had my routine and made sure to keep myself hydrated as I climbed in and out of stands and buttoned and unbuttoned my pants to keep my growing mid-section happy.  I also kept my backpack filled with snacks with me, which is something did not have four years ago.   But just like back then, I matched Hubby with his deer, shooting my own 6 pointer on the last day of rifle season.  And again, (see slightly competitive comment above) my deer weighted more and had more bone on his head.

 
I’ve successfully gone 2 for 2 for deer while pregnant and I am happy with that. No more babies for me, but hopefully a lot more deer! 


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