One year on. I can hardly believe how the time has passed. My son is on the cusp of walking and talking and my life is completely different from before he arrived. I’m taking advantage of a rare moment of lucidity and quiet to write this; for once I am neither too busy, sleep deprived or hormonal to string two words together.
I have had to face the fact that my life will never be the same, and I have sold Drifter to a pleasant lady who wants a retirement pony for hacking and I think they will be very well suited to each other. I never wanted a horse who was just a weekend hobby and I couldn’t see a future in which I could be the mother I need to be and the owner I wanted to be, so I had to accept that the horse-owning chapter of my life was over.
It has been a little while since he went and I know I made the correct choice. I am whole again instead of constantly feeling guilty about not being able to get to the yard. I know that many other women balance horse owning and motherhood but comparing myself to others is an exercise in futility; the fact remains that it is not something I can do.
We had an excellent final dressage lesson before he went so that we finished our ridden time together on a high note.