PACIFIC PALISADES, Calif. — Madelene Sagstrom was just a few minutes from finishing her first round at the U.S. Women’s Open when she had to pause, stand more erect, look at her caddie and take a deep breath.
It sounds like the perfect calming mechanism for handling the 6-foot par-saver that remained. Rather, this was her way of working through a pre-contraction, also known as Braxton Hicks contractions — discomforting cramps in the abdomen or pelvis that can happen during the third trimester of a pregnancy.
That’s right — Sagstrom is seven months pregnant and grinded through 18 holes at Riviera Country Club Thursday morning, slowing here and there during the moments when her baby boy felt like shifting around. And he’s been moving a lot lately, “rearranging his bedroom” last night while she was trying to sleep ahead of a 7:29 a.m. tee time.
“That was the first time I could really feel like he’s getting bigger,” Sagstrom said, just moments after summiting the hill behind Riviera’s 18th green.
The 33-year-old is the 73rd-ranked player in the world and is, as you may guess, highly motivated. She would have every reason to take it easy but has found her golf to be a guiding purpose during pregnancy. Her husband, Jack Clarke, caddies on the PGA Tour and Sagstrom finds herself alone at home often.
“[Golf] gives me a reason to wake up in the morning,” she says. “To go to the golf course, to play. I’ve been playing well beating my friends at home, so I’m like why not try, you know?”
Why not try?
Only women could know. Every pregnancy is different. Sagstrom isn’t the first pro to compete while pregnant and she won’t be the last. But she may somehow be the most driven. Regardless of how this week goes, she’s playing next week, at the Dow Championship in Michigan. And she hasn’t ruled out the KPMG Women’s PGA at the end of the month, although she said Thursday’s round — her first time playing 18 this week — made her wonder if that’ll be possible.
For pro golfers, even the tiniest changes can throw everything out of whack. (For all golfers!) They’d rather be robots than humans, slotting their body parts into repetitive motion and perfect positions. But what’s perfect or repetitive or predictable about pregnancy? As recent months passed, Sagstrom’s coach realized her spine angle had shifted four degrees forward, completely changing her angle of attack to the golf ball. Her arms grew tired swinging the same clubs she’s played for years, so she switched into a completely new set mid-tournament in New Jersey, adding more woods to the bag than before. She regrets not changing sooner. She’s lost at least 5 mph of swing speed and more than 10 mph of ball speed.
“Unless you are pregnant yourself or have kids, you don’t realize how hard it is,” Sagstrom said. “And I don’t think I realized it either. I mean, beginning of the year — when I found out I was pregnant — I’m like, I’m gonna do this, this, this and this. And then it hits you hard.”
When she says this, Sagstrom smiles. In that way only hyper-competitive people do when they sniff a challenge.
“But it’s kind of fun to test the boundaries,” she said. “Like, what can I do? Can I actually figure this out?”
Walk around with her group at Riviera and you hear spectators whisper.
Wow, seven months pregnant!
You see how she’s moving?
I can’t believe she’s doing this.
Inside the ropes, at least between pre-contractions, she seems to forget about the message she’s sending to the world. Her husband walked all 18 holes, proud, concerned, impressed, and smiling. But fresh off signing for a six-over 77, Sagstrom said she was kinda “pissed off.” She noticed for the first time some restriction, right after impact and through the swing. Suddenly, she’s battling the occasional toe-hook. She couldn’t make a birdie putt, and is working through a weird mix of altered expectations. (When she holed out for eagle on the 3rd hole during Wednesday’s practice round, she said, “Why today? Why not tomorrow?”)
“At the same time, I don’t want to stop my life,” she said. “I like my life. I get to play Riviera for fun. Or not fun. Whatever you want to call it.”
Her first thought, after signing her scorecard, was to go practice. But then she would have had to walk back up the mountain of steps to Riv’s clubhouse. Lunch sounded better.
“But once I sit down,” she said with a laugh, “I’m going to struggle to get up.”
