If there is one thing we know for sure: new mothers cannot win. They are either ‘too real’ baring their post-partum flesh and leaky bosoms, ‘too polished’ with a post birth bouncy blow dry, ‘too quick’ to snap back, or’ too lazy’ to get back to their fitness regime. When it comes to combining early motherhood and work, that is a whole other can of worms – just ask Suki Waterhouse who has inspired online ire by doing her job, performing at Coachella for an hour or so a few weeks after welcoming her first baby. “The fact anyone expects her to perform - including herself - is what's wrong with this world. We shouldn't be applauding this, we should be shaming it,” reads one of the more friendly comments.
It goes without saying that every person who births a child should have the right to recovery, to feed (whichever way works best, no medals available) and the space to learn the ropes. The legal protections that parents enjoy in the U.K only need to be bolstered. However, women have the equal right to do none of the above. No matter what the NHS, NCT, Mumsnet or the schoolgate police might suggest, there are no laws forcing women to tick any of these boxes. Maternity leave isn’t mandatory, and not taking it, or only taking a short amount of time off is a mother’s prerogative. Too rarely are we reminded that there are far more choices available than are advertised. No woman should be shamed for anything she does as long as her babe is safe and cared for. Because here’s the small print: having the right to choose can also mean making hard decisions.
Before I had my first son, my maternity leave plan was to muddle through. I was self-employed, the lion’s share breadwinner and also happened to be partway through writing my debut book when my waters broke. I had no childcare arrangements, no family living in the country, no friends with children, no experience with children, no networks, no mentors, no expectations. I was just going to have my baby then learn to be a mother, while simultaneously getting back to work as best I could. In the city, for freelance and business-owning mums-to-be, this is most often the story. It was insanely naïve and yes, I was clueless. Show me a brand-new parent who isn’t.
For the first four weeks of new-born life, I tied up other unfinished jobs, filed my VAT and tax and answered emails while my baby slept. After those slower four weeks, there were deadlines I could no longer put off. Unless I wanted to miss my publication date and pay back my advance, I had to face the music and get back to more formal output. I had given everything to my book, there was just no way I was going to spike it. There’s no point pretending—at the time it felt monstrous and dragging my still bleeding and leaking body to a desk to extract another 20k words from my battered soul wasn’t fun.
But all life is compromise. If you want to combine work and motherhood at any point, you are going to have to make concessions on both sides of the un-squarable circle. Yes, we all deserve space to feel out the new way, but there are lots of jobs which are Zeitgeist related, window of opportunity based, and the clear-eyed truth is that the word doesn’t press pause for anyone, man nor woman. If we’re telling mothers they will be shamed for operating within the context of their own industries, we only narrow female career prospects. In a position where the choice is ‘set my career back 5 years’, ‘entirely bankrupt my family’s finances,’ or ‘say goodbye to my already shredded sanity,’ we may choose not to do that. And we should be supported in that choice as much as another woman who decides to go another way.
Overall, I have no regrets and I am so inordinately grateful to my past self that I finished that book. Totally putting my own fulfilment and ego aside, that book is the foundation on which my current career is built. And here’s the real zinger: without that book, I probably wouldn’t be the hands-on, PTA mum that I am today. For all the compromises that I took in the early months to fit work in, I now make far fewer compromises as a parent of older children because of the new career I set up during early motherhood.
I also want to mention that going back to my job so quickly carved out a moment of respite from a job I was wildly unprepared for. Work, specifically the work that I love was like a tall glass of water. Early motherhood is not everyone’s forte, that doesn’t make you a bad parent or role model. If they are fortunate enough to have a flexible career, mothers should feel free to experiment with dipping a toe back in without the fear of censure. Maybe they hate it, or maybe like me, they don’t. We should neither celebrate nor criticise any particular choice, just simply support this tender time as a mother forges her own unchartered path. Perhaps that would help all insecure new mothers - and I was very much one of that number- to stop comparing our incomparable journeys. Different women, different babies, different jobs, different partners, different families, different dreams. Why on earth would there be one cookie cutter way to do it right?
Suki, for anyone who has been following, has been building a career as an actress and a musician for several years now and has spoken at length about how performing is her passion. Her 2022 LP ‘I Can’t Let Go’ garnered a 4* NME review and she has an upcoming record which she has obviously poured her creative heart and soul into, just like I had with my book. For any Daisy & The Six adherents this whole rhetoric is wildly ironic. Suki’s character Karen Sirko in last year’s hit Prime miniseries aborts a child because she believed motherhood would be incompatible with her desire to perform as a musician. That was set in the 70s. Depressing to say it, but it seems plus ça change.