I Thought I’d Be Hiking With My Baby
When I was pregnant, I had this picture in my head of what maternity leave would look like.
I’d be spending my days in the mountains with Daisy tucked up in a baby carrier. We’d explore our favourite valleys, stop for coffee overlooking a lake and I’d slowly introduce her to the places that have always felt like home to me.
It seemed so simple.
The reality couldn’t have been more different.
I couldn’t even walk for ten minutes
I’d had an emergency C-section, and although I knew recovery would take time, I don’t think I’d fully appreciated just how much my body had been through.
I remember attempting short walks and feeling exhausted almost immediately. Some days I could barely manage ten minutes without feeling unwell.
Watching other mums out hiking made me wonder if I was doing something wrong.
Looking back now, I wasn’t.
Recovery simply isn’t the same for everyone.
I thought maternity leave would be full of hikes
When Daisy was around seven weeks old, we decided to try our first proper family walk.
I carried her in the baby carrier while Phil carried most of our kit. We chose an easy route around Llyn Idwal, telling ourselves we’d just see how it went.
The baby wasn’t the problem.
My body was.
Within a couple of hours, my back was so painful that I knew we’d pushed too far.
For the next five days, I paid for it.
At the time it felt incredibly frustrating. I’d imagined this magical first family adventure, but instead I came home wondering if I’d ever get back to the mountains.
My second attempt wasn’t much easier
A few weeks later, we tried again.
This time we kept it low and flat.
I was still in pain.
That was probably the hardest part of those early months—not knowing whether things would ever improve.
I had to let go of the picture I’d imagined
Eventually, I stopped trying to force mountain days.
Instead, we swapped summits for pram walks.
We explored local parks, coastal paths and anywhere with smooth paths that allowed me to rebuild my strength without worrying about steep climbs or heavy packs.
At first, I saw it as settling for less.
Now I realise those walks were just as important.
They kept me moving, got us outside and reminded me that adventure didn’t have to disappear simply because it looked different.
The mountains had to wait
If I wanted to hike, I had to do it differently. Some mornings I’d leave home at 4am while everyone else was asleep.
I’d squeeze in a sunrise hike, grab a coffee on the way home and be back before lunchtime. It wasn’t how I’d imagined motherhood.
But it meant I still got little moments that felt like me.
Rebuilding took months, not weeks
There wasn’t a magic moment where everything suddenly felt normal again. It was gradual. Walking became longer. The hills became steeper.
I added strength training and yoga.
Slowly, almost without noticing, I started recognising myself again.
Seven months later, I reached the summit
Seven months postpartum, I stood on a summit and cried. Not because it was a particularly difficult mountain. Because I’d finally realised how much I’d taken my health for granted before pregnancy.
I’d spent months wondering whether I’d ever feel strong again.
Standing there, looking back over everything my body had carried me through, felt bigger than any summit I’d reached before.
Eventually, We Started Hiking Together
By the time Daisy was around ten months old, things finally started to feel different. I was stronger, my confidence had returned and low-level walks no longer left me needing days to recover.
That’s when I decided to invest in a hiking backpack carrier. It felt like another milestone. We’d moved on from the newborn carrier, and I finally felt ready to share more of the outdoors with her in the way I’d imagined during pregnancy.
We started with gentle, low-level walks and slowly built from there. There was no rush to tackle big mountains again. After everything my body had been through, I’d learned that enjoying the journey mattered far more than reaching a summit.
If you’re still waiting to get back outdoors…
If your recovery doesn’t look like someone else’s, it doesn’t mean you’re doing anything wrong.
Some people are back hiking within weeks.
Some take months.
Some need even longer.
There isn’t a right timeline.
If I’ve learned anything, it’s that the mountains aren’t going anywhere.
Your fitness can come back.
Your confidence can come back.
And one day, often when you least expect it, you’ll realise you’ve found your way back to the places you love.
