Championships, Cheerios (the cereal), and Change

Towards the end of May, my world quietly shifted. Dad was moved from the hospital into St Richard’s Hospice in Worcester and placed on end-of-life care. Even writing that still feels surreal. The emotional weight of knowing each day might be his last was crushing. But amidst that pain, we found a place of calm in St Richard’s.

I honestly cannot speak highly enough of the care they provide. The nurses and support team are extraordinary. They made what could have been unbearable into something comforting. Everything they do is free for families, but it takes £12 million a year to keep the hospice running. Now, I’ve made it a personal mission to raise funds for them. More on that soon.

Amidst everything, golf remained my escape.

On 1st June, I found out I hadn’t played enough qualifiers over the past year to enter the Ladies Club Championships. I was absolutely gutted. But, call it fate, there was one last qualifier on 3rd June. After work, I played it with Beth and James and somehow shot a 71! One over par. 39 points. I even won the stableford. No clue where that round came from, but I was buzzing!

That meant I was back in the Club Champs with a new handicap of 4.8. I was slightly panicked that I’d peaked too soon, but honestly, I felt good. Pregnancy symptoms hadn’t hit me too hard, yet, just some nausea without actually being sick and a bit of fatigue. I was managing, and more importantly, still swinging easily. I genuinely think the freedom came from having no expectations. Golf has always been my happy place, and I loved being able to debrief every round with Dad. 

Friday came, and we had a great visit with Dad. He was chatty and in good spirits. It was the evening before the Club Champs, and as I said goodbye, he told me, “You better win!” Classic Dad. No pressure at all…

Saturday’s round went better than expected, though I started feeling it in my lower back. I assumed it was tension, but turns out lower back pain is totally normal at this stage of pregnancy. Your body’s already preparing for the months ahead, loosening joints and adjusting posture. I pushed through and shot a 75, five over par. This meant I was leading and going out last on Sunday.

Sunday came, and with it, a new level of exhaustion. I hit the dreaded pregnancy energy slump, also very normal around week 10 apparently. Your body’s working overtime growing the placenta, and suddenly it feels like you’ve run a marathon just brushing your teeth. I couldn’t rely on my usual painkillers or anti-inflammatories either, so I made do with paracetamol and, more importantly, snacks.

Snacks are my new superpower.

Mid-round sandwiches (which I never usually touch), endless snacks, and my morning go-to: Cheerios with honey. At week 10, for me, hunger hit hard and early morning. I’ve gone from being able to skip breakfast to waking up starving. Golf without fuel is not an option anymore, there’s a tiny human relying on me to stay energised too.

Back to Sunday. Walking up the 17th, I was 1 under par. Unreal. I bogeyed that one unfortunately, finished level, and ended the two-day comp 5 over par overall, winning the Ladies Club Championship by 26 shots. I stayed for the presentation, then took the trophy straight to Dad. We spent the evening the same way we always have, chatting about the round and him reminding me I should be working in golf for a living.

It’s strange and beautiful how the hardest and happiest moments of life can sit side by side. I’m grieving, I'm growing, and I’m still somehow playing the best golf of my life. Life doesn’t pause, even when you want it to. But in its own crazy way, it brings joy when you least expect it.

We finished the week content and happy. And for now, that’s more than enough.