The Other Mother
Scarlet Amies, founded MASAJ in 2016 after having made a career change to become a bodyworker. Whilst working in Barcelona she noticed a great need for accessible bodywork and so MASAJ begun. Alongside the exciting journey that MASAJ has been on since then, Scarlet has also been on the journey of becoming a Mother - learning how to navigate this new role, whilst also running a rapidly growing business.
In this feature Scarlet speaks about her experience of Motherhood from the perspective of ‘The Other Mother’. Discussing her and her partners experience bringing up their daughter in a same-sex parent family, the struggles that many face when confronted with progressing in their career and having children, and the complex emotions that day’s like Mother’s Day can arise for many.
In the August of 2020 among the chaos of navigating life during a pandemic, my wife became pregnant after a successful round of intrauterine insemination (IUI). Only a handful of weeks later, my mother died. I found out while working alone in my makeshift home office, on a tearful phone call from a close relative. The very next day we braved an early-morning scan in hospital and were officially told the pregnancy was viable. At the time it felt particularly heart wrenching, particularly poignant – as one important woman had left us, another one was joining us. For a while my daughter referred to all close females as ‘Mama’. She wasn’t the first to find two female parents for the price of one perplexing. At the time of her arrival, my wife was rushed in for an emergency C-section. An embarrassed looking nurse handed me turquoise scrubs and a name sticker with one word printed on it: ‘DAD’. As the medics were poised to perform their magical work, I insisted someone found me a pen. They quickly obliged and I scribbled the correct three letters onto my sticky name label, and to the theatre we dashed!It seems trifling now – a few years on – but I think of all those other people who don’t have a dad with them at birth for a multitude of reasons, and wonder why it’s so hard to do even the simplest of things and print the words ‘birth partner’ on the name stickers used to identity who is who. This was the first inadvertent homophobia I experienced as a mother; since then, I’ve had to explain who I am in relation to my daughter countless times – and in some ways this equates to having to come out again and again – in all kinds of circumstances. Fourth trimester, or postpartum mothering was full of challenges and new experiences for my wife, but being ‘the other mother’ in our same-sex parent family came with its own set of trials. My heart would break a little in the early days when our baby would cry for milk and I wasn’t able to help her as she nestled into my breast, instead taking on nappy, cleaning and cooking duties. Going back to work was hard, I had to deal with the guilt of leaving my tiny daughter and exhausted wife at home – wanting so desperately to be with them – and the simultaneous excitement about the future of MASAJ.
Navigating work and parenthood is a nightmare. I have friends whose child-care costs exceed their salary, who choose to work full-time anyway. I have other mates who have decided to be at home full-time until they’re eligible for child-care funding, or until the child starts school. We’re judged whichever path we choose – I’ve even heard friends lie to strangers about still being in employment, for fear of the condescension they’ll experience if they don’t. I so admire the courageous work of Joeli Brearley and her organisation Pregnant Then Screwed, for relentlessly fighting against the motherhood penalty and for a better set of options for primary caregivers. The government announcement earlier this week of forthcoming funding for parents of babies was celebrated by many as a much needed first step towards achieving these goals.
One of the perks of being a two-womb family is that we have some flexibility around pregnancy, our careers and maternity leave. It goes without saying that not all people with wombs are in this enviable situation and too many of them feel caught in the middle of a custody battle between the ‘ticking body clock’ and the pull of career progression. I am privileged. My reality was that I was ready to be a mum, but I wasn’t ready to become pregnant or to take a prolonged period off work – luckily my wife was, and as a teacher she had a decent maternity package. If we do decide to have another child, we will review both of our wants, needs and ambitions, in work and otherwise, to determine which womb will be next in action.
Having a mother, or not having a mother, becoming a mother, or choosing not to become a mother, being denied the opportunity to mother, losing a mother figure or indeed never having a mother figure - are everyday realities for many, and so days like today can hit differently. When I was asked to write something for Mother’s Day, I felt compelled to share a little about my own story – and help to promote a bit of sensitivity around a subject so broad, nuanced and complicated. P.S. While we love to celebrate the Mother figure, including all those humans who nurture and care - we appreciate the sensitivities that often find us at this time of year. For many people, including those within the MASAJ family, celebrations like Mother's Day can be a difficult time. However you spend this time, ensure that you are looking after yourself and doing what's best for you. The title of this piece is inspired by the book The Other Mother - a fantastic book by Jen Brister that helped me navigate the daunting prospect of becoming the other mother.