Why I agree with Meghann Foye (of Meternity fame)

Rebecca Miller - 11 May 16

This week Meghann Foye created a wave of publicity for her new book, based around a woman who wants all ‘the perks’ of maternity leave without having kids.

Many women, mothers or not, got their knickers in a bit of a twist about her claims that maternity leave gives women ‘space and self-reflection’. Well, I’m only going to agree with her: Right now, in the midst of maternity leave with my second child, I have to say, I have felt grateful for the soul-searching opportunities that having this ‘time-off’ has given me.

Now let’s, get this straight I am not comparing maternity leave to spending a year bumming around in Phuket, lighting camp-fires and taking illicit substances in order to find oneself. In fact, I’m saying that stuff is for wimps and Megan Foye, I challenge you to the sort of arse-kicking self reflection that maternity leave forces you to experience.

Lets start with the baby. You take something that used to be a part of you and spend at least the first six months watching it cry. Your baby will probably look like you to some extent, so you are effectively watching yourself cry. You desperately try to make it stop  and sometimes you do and sometimes you fall into a heap wondering why a part of your own soul hates you. Take that, Thai magic-mushrooms, this is where it gets heavy.

Next lets move onto the hormones. Another article I read on this subject, describes the baby blues as an invisible bear that gets released in your house that only you can see. I prefer to describe it as the innate feeling that you are an Eastenders character and that every terrible thing that can happen to a person will happen to you.

I spent the first month of my youngest son’s life thinking that I would be sent to prison. I made long mental lists of things I could go to prison for and had ‘It’s a wonderful life’ style day-mares about what would happen to my kids if I were not there. I’m not sure that is the kind of self-reflection Foye is looking for but I say, if she wants it, let her have it.

Then we have Mummy guilt. ‘Am I playing too much with kid 1?’ ‘Have I cooed enough at kid 2?’ ‘Kid 1 hasn’t been outside today and has watched 7 episodes of Peppa pig in row!’ ‘If only I could find some clean pants and get dressed!’.

Also, as the end of maternity leave looms closer the crazy guilt about returning to work sets in. ‘How will my children cope without me?’ ‘How will I cope without them?’ ‘How will the world cope without my considerable skills if I don’t go back to work?’.

Every day I feel I am fighting a battle to keep a level head and to be a good parent amidst this sea of emotions. The love I feel for my children and the cocktail of hormones coursing through my veins is both wonderful and devastating. More importantly the choices I make every day and watching my children develop into individuals is indescribably empowering.

While maternity leave does not give the same level of time to oneself as the extended holiday that most think Foye is talking about, I do feel like I’ve had self-reflection smacked into my face. In fact Foye herself goes on to say ‘a “meternity” done right should be challenging. It should be about digging into your whole life and emerging from it more confident in who you are.’

I do believe I have a better understanding of who I am because of this time with my children. I know that sounds awfully obnoxious, but it is true. After my last maternity leave I returned to work with an increased sense of self-belief and a whole load of perspective. If there is a way to replicate this hardcore lesson in looking within for people who don’t have children that can only be a good thing.

Rebecca Miller

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