Summer 2015. For the past eight months or so I had been working in my dream job in international development, travelling across Asia and Africa visiting agriculture and nutrition projects and learning about innovative approaches. And then one morning I got up and had to rush straight to the loo. Food poisoning, malaria, a bit of hangover from the night before? Or…?
That evening two lines on a pregnancy test proved beyond doubt that I was indeed pregnant. My husband and I were over the moon, as we’d been trying for a couple of years, we were in our mid thirties and the time was definitely right. But… What about my new adventurous life?
Last year took me on several trips to Asia and Africa, including less travelled places like Rwanda and Benin.
When I tracked mountain gorillas in the Volcanoes National Park in Rwanda, walked the mountains of Tanzania, spent a few hectic days visiting markets of Addis Ababa, and toured Kampala in the rain, I was pregnant with my first child.
No, I’m not mad or particularly reckless. I’m aware of the risks – as my doctor said, staying on your sofa is much, much safer than travelling. I weigh the pros and cons and when I travel, I follow some basic rules that allow me to mitigate health risks in places where hygiene standards are lower than in most of the Western world, and where tropical diseases are prevalent. Continue reading