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"When your baby moves in the womb, he or she is
not kicking, but practicing fly casting!" This
is what some of my friends and co-workers used to
say, whenever I showed them pictures of the different
fishing trips I went on while pregnant. Laughing, I
would touch my belly and say, "I really hope so.
After all, Jorge and I are both passionate fly anglers."
When I met Jorge, I never thought that we would end
up being a duo, much less a trio. His professional
interests revolved around the world of physics and
mine around the world of music, but as the saying goes,
"opposites attract," and attracted we were. Years
later, (and I do mean many years later), these two
opposite poles were about to become the proud parents
of a wonderful child.
When we found out that the stork would be paying us a
visit (well, not really the stork, but you know what
I mean), our excitement couldn't be greater. Jorge and
I were determined to continue with our fishing trips, as
long as my pregnancy was a healthy one and the circumstances
allowed me to do it. The circumstances however managed
to make things difficult for me and during the first three
months, I had to endure a series of lab analysis to make
sure that I wasn't on the verge of having a miscarriage.
The lab results showed that, like a well-trimmed sailboat
moving with the wind, I also had the wind in my favor.
Everything was going well with my pregnancy.
Choosing not to know the baby's gender made the waiting
period even more exciting for us. Would it be a boy? A
girl? Not knowing the answer to this question is what
I consider to be one of the very few surprises a human
being can choose to experience in her/his life. Moreover,
our parents didn't have the advantage of today's technology
(e.g. an ultrasound that could determine a baby's gender)
and they loved each and every one of their children. Our
main concern was to have a healthy child, as we were
committed to giving our offspring (be it a daughter or a
son) the gift of enjoying nature and fly-fishing, or any
type of fishing for that matter. After all, Jorge and I
got the same present from our dads; they both loved nature,
as well as the sport of fishing. Thus, taking all the
necessary precautions, we continued to go fishing, until
the weekend before my due date (October 6, 1995).
In general, most of our fishing trips were very pleasant,
although I must tell you that at nine months, my belly was
absolutely gigantic, and my bottom…well, being a "Caribeña"
(a Caribbean woman) with voluptuous hips, you can imagine!
Carrying all this weight while fishing was sometimes a big
challenge, particularly when casting and trying to maintain
my balance while standing on the small inflatable that we
used for our fishing trips or on any type of boat. This,
I tell you, was quite an odyssey!
Managing fatigue, back pain, nature calls, and other
pregnancy related difficulties was challenging at times,
but amusing at others. For example, you all know (and
if you don't know it yet, you are about to find out now)
that the pressure that a baby's weight exerts on its
mother's bladder forces her to visit the bathroom more
frequently than usual, especially during the first and
last months of pregnancy. This is one of many normal
pregnancy milestones a mother-to-be will experience, but
it is one that could also place her in unpleasant
situations, particularly, when she needs to use a bathroom
and finds herself forced to improvise. A situation that
I experienced during several of my fishing trips, as the
following anecdote shows.
One day, I felt the urge to use a bathroom. Not having
one close by, I looked at Jorge and said: "Row as fast
as you can to those bushes that I see ahead of us because
my bladder is about to burst." Without saying a word,
but understanding the urgency of the situation, Jorge began
to row as fast as he could. As soon as we reached the shore,
and like a rocket that has been launched to the moon, I got
out of the boat and walked towards the bushes (actually,
waddled towards them, as my belly was big), without paying
attention to what type of bushes they were. "What a relief,"
I said to myself. Then, waddling back, I let out a sigh
and got into the boat. As we continued fishing, I began
to feel some discomfort on my bottom, but didn't make much
of it. I figured that, as pregnant as I was, my discomfort
was the result of having been seated on the inflatable for
such a long time. Upon reaching home, and still feeling
such discomfort, I looked at myself in the mirror and, to
my surprise; I discovered I had several long scratches on
my gluteus maximus. "No wonder I was in such pain," I said
to myself.
It so happens that the bushes that I had used as a
bathroom had thorns, but in my desperation to go, I
never saw them. One can only say thank God that these
bushes had only thorns intertwined with them and not
what, in good Spanish, we called "yedra venenosa."
Had this been poison ivy, being as allergic to this
plant as I am, instead of scratches, I would have
ended up looking like I had a bad case of chicken pox
(something I experienced as a child and would never
like to experience again). From this moment on,
whenever I am in need of a bathroom and I am forced
to improvise, I check it out first before using it!
Despite the few inconveniences encountered on our
trips, though, I continued to go fishing and so did
our baby. Being in my womb like a fish in water, our
son, Sebastián, accompanied us on our fishing trips
until the weekend before he was born. By then, he had
already logged hundreds of miles on fishing trips.
From that point on, he stopped being a fish and became
a fisherman!
But what do fly-fishing and motherhood (and fatherhood
for that matter) have in common, after all? Are there
any differences between them? This is a question that
can generate as many answers as there are fly anglers
and parents in the world. Yet I believe that fly-fishing
and parenthood are great adventures we choose to engage
in, not knowing at times what kind of challenges and
surprises they might bring. But challenges and surprises
are intrinsic parts of the parenthood process, as well
as the sport of fishing; they are a requirement to improve
our parenting and fishing skills; they're nature's way
of teaching us some humbleness.
In the process of raising and educating our children,
we all use similar and different styles, methods and
techniques. Likewise, we all have our unique ways of
presenting the proper fly to a rising fish. When
learning to fly fish, we not only learn to use a rod
and a floating line, but we also learn to use plenty
of entomology, biology, geography, and even meteorology.
When raising our sons and daughters, though, we don't
need to know entomology or meteorology (at least, not
that I know of!), but we do need to know some biology,
sociology, psychology, and several other "ologies," (as
well as plenty of other skills). Love, planning, patience,
intuition, passion, understanding, determination, and
lots of practice, are some of the skills and qualities
required to become both successful parents and successful
anglers.
In our parental role, the joys and rewards our children
bring into our lives can make up for any of the challenges
and obstacles we may encounter during the process of raising
them and taking them fishing with us. Likewise, as fly
anglers, the challenges or obstacles we may encounter when
fishing, are completely forgotten the moment we release
a fish. And what a great feeling of accomplishment this is!
If you still aren't convinced that parenting and
fly-fishing are both interesting and challenging
adventures, try to change a baby's diaper or feed
a baby at 1:00 AM or 2:00 AM, when both of you are
tired and sleepy. Or try to catch a fish that
doesn't show any interest whatsoever in any of the
flies that you are presenting it, making it difficult,
if not impossible, for you to catch it. Better yet,
get in your car and go on a fishing trip, but not
without first placing in your car's trunk an inflatable
that is basically 10 feet long and about 4 feet wide,
the type of inflatable that you will have to inflate
with the help of a pump that is connected to your car's
battery (and, thank God, not with the air from your lungs!)
the moment you arrive at the fishing place. Also, bring
the rods and fishing equipment that you think you need
to have (you probably won't use all of the equipment,
but you'll feel compelled to have it with you, anyway).
And, since you are taking your baby fishing with you,
you cannot forget to bring all of the necessary equipment
for your bundle of joy! You'll need a backpack filled
with diapers, changes of clothes, blankets, sun block,
a towel, a hat, sunglasses and toys, your baby's car seat
or stroller, first-aid kit, life jackets, food for the
adults, and a camera, among other things. Quite a
picture, don't you think?
For Jorge and myself, the above-described picture
was our daily bread, as taking Sebastián fishing
with us (which is what we did all the time, and
still do) meant putting so many things in our small
inflatable, that instead of fly anglers ready to go
fishing, we looked more like merchants transporting
our wares to the market! But this was part of the
price that we had to pay (and one that we paid with
"gusto"), for we very much desired to become parents,
and wanted to continue pursuing our fly-fishing passion
as well.
Oh, and to satisfy your curiosity, I must say that
Sebastián's food did not occupy any space in our
small boat, and I mean not at all, as his milk supply
was being kept in the perfect place, ready for whenever
he wanted it. Where? I'm sure you know the answer to
this question, but just in case, here it is: I was
breastfeeding him!
At present, Sebi (short for Sebastián) is 9 years old.
Our fishing trips have taken us to places near Philadelphia,
the city where we live and to places as far away as the
Xingú River in the Brazilian Amazon.
In these journeys, we have learned something
new as individuals, and as a family. We have
also shared plenty of responsibilities, fun,
laughter, sunny and rainy days and good and bad
fishing days. There have been times where we have
gotten exhausted, frustrated, upset or sick, but,
what can I say, these experiences have also been
part of the adventure. Moreover, on each trip
Jorge, Sebastián and I have been able to fish,
demonstrating that the famous phrase, "Either
you go fishing, or you take your son or daughter
fishing," is nothing but a myth.
But let me tell you, bringing a child, whether a
boy or a girl, on each fishing trip is not
necessarily going to make it a fun experience, or
make it a trip free of complications. Although,
in my experience, taking a grown man or a woman
on your fishing trip doesn't necessarily make the
fishing experience any better. On the contrary,
sometimes it could make it worse, especially, when
he/she begins to complain about not being able to
catch a fish and wants to call it a day. At that
point the fishing experience could become agonizing
for everyone involved, but mostly for the angler who
is accustomed to fishing long days, until tiredness
overcomes him/her.
In summary, being passionate anglers, as well as
devoted and caring parents, has proved to be a
challenging and fantastic experience for Jorge
and myself. The amount of stuff that we take on
our fishing trips has lessened since we no longer
have to bring a child's car seat or stroller, nor
do we have to bring a bunch of baby stuff, like we
used to have to bring. However, one thing hasn't
changed at all...we still bring fishing stuff that
we don't use. But what can I say; BAD HABITS are
hard to break!
~ Marta E. Rivas-Olmeda
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