The Parent Trip: Abby Perkiss and Brent Freedland of Mount Airy

People told them to forget about restaurant dinners and first-run movies. They cautioned that sleep would be a scarce commodity. They advised the couple to expect conflict in the first mind-spinning weeks of parenting.

People said a lot of things. Abby and Brent decided to ignore most of them.

"The biggest advice we decided not to listen to was people saying we wouldn't be able to do the same things as before," Abby says.

That includes academia, activism and adventure racing, the couple's shared passion: an ultra-endurance sport that combines paddling, mountain-biking and trekking - while navigating only with a map and compass - in wilderness settings around the world.

An adventure racing "sprint" lasts six hours; some involve days of sleeplessness and strategy as coed teams slog through swamps, scale cliffs, or kayak through white-water.

All of which turned out to be excellent preparation for pregnancy, childbirth and parenting.

But that was later. Nine years before, they met while holiday shopping at the now-defunct Borders in Chestnut Hill. Neither was looking for a partner; in fact, both were dating other people. But a conversation about nonfiction writers who publish memoirs (Abby was exasperated with Tracy Kidder's self-focused new book) led to an exchange of e-mail addresses, a date - this time at a Barnes & Noble - and an intuition, on both their parts, that this relationship was for the long haul.

"I'm a super-analytical and rational person," says Abby. But after the couple's second date, "I texted a friend and said, 'I'm going to marry this kid.' "

For both, having children was a "when," not an "if." Even before they married, they discussed which relatives they might honor in naming their still-hypothetical offspring. But the "when" became harder to figure out.

First, Abby was preoccupied with her doctoral thesis, which she expanded into a book, Making Good Neighbors: Civil Rights, Liberalism and Integration in Postwar Philadelphia. Then Brent, a history teacher at Germantown Academy, started graduate school. They hoped to time a baby around the academic job cycle and the globe-hopping schedule of adventure races.

"In the spring of 2013, we decided to stop trying not to have a kid," Abby recalls. She became pregnant quickly - so quickly that both she and Brent felt stunned - but miscarried on Mother's Day. They needed to mourn that loss before trying again.

They were traveling in Slovakia when Abby walked into the Eastern European equivalent of CVS for a pregnancy test kit. She knew a few words of Slovak - "please," "thank you" and "can we have the check?" - but managed to convey her request by pantomiming a pregnant belly. It was August. This time felt right.

"We were both on the same page," Abby recalls. And from the start, she and Brent were equally determined that pregnancy and parenting would not derail their active lives.

In her sixth month, the couple traveled to Spain with her parents. At 36 weeks, the two scouted an adventure racing course, scrambling through the woods northeast of Harrisburg to hang orienteering flags. Abby's book was published, and she continued running through her 37th week.

She planned her delivery with similar determination - until learning, at a midwife appointment near her due date, that she'd been leaking amniotic fluid for two weeks. Even with Pitocin ramping up her contractions, labor wasn't moving ahead, and after hours at Pennsylvania Hospital - with Brent sneaking her Jujyfruits for energy - Abby agreed to an epidural.

What helped were the skills they'd honed on the adventure racecourse. Once, during a five-day race in Scotland, Abby had broken her foot. Brent and other teammates carried her gear, and at one point, the couple literally tied themselves together so Brent could tow her through the highlands.

"With every contraction, we'd say, 'OK, is this harder than the race in Scotland?' " Abby says. "Overall, Scotland was harder."

When they began adventure racing together, Abby had to mount the staggering learning curve of new skills while Brent learned to manage his competitive edge. Both recall a bitter fight in a canoe, with another teammate trying to mediate the dispute.

But over the years, they'd become a deft and strategic team. They'd learned how to take the first step of a 2,000-foot climb. They'd learned to communicate, to problem-solve, to persevere when stopping was not an option.

"In adventure racing, you just have to keep making forward progress. I think that helped both of us stay present and patient during delivery," Brent says.

And once home with Zoe - named for Brent's father, whose self-given middle name was "Z" - they dived into parenthood as their newest adventure in adaptability. Abby breast-fed; Brent changed diapers after nighttime feedings. They went to bed when the baby did. They took her on a hike in the Wissahickon at 4 days old, to a restaurant at two weeks.

Abby, who was raised in Mount Airy and always vowed she'd return to the neighborhood as an adult, hopes her daughter will carry on the local legacy of social justice. "I hope she grows up to be someone who, when she sees injustice in the world, feels powerful enough to do something about it. And I hope she loves the Wissahickon and eating sweets at High Point Cafe."

So far, Zoe seems to have inherited her parents' zest. She remained cheerful during a four-hour photo session when she was eight days old; she bushwhacked - Brent carried her in a front pack - at four weeks. At three months, when the family was in Wales for a race, she stood up on her own.

This summer, Abby and Brent will return to the racing circuit: for seven days, they will trek over glaciers, rappel with ropes, and inflate small, portable boats to paddle through frosty lakes. Abby's parents and sister will fly out with Zoe, so that on the Fourth of July, in Seward, Alaska, she can wave her exhausted, exuberant parents across the finish line.

If you've become a parent - for the first, second or fifth time - within the last six months, e-mail us why we should feature your story: parents@phillynews.com.

Giving birth, adopting, or becoming a stepparent or guardian all count.

Unfortunately, we can't respond individually to all submissions. If your story is chosen, you will be contacted. EndText