I used to know everything about being a woman, and then I became pregnant. Suddenly my body started doing unexpected things, like being sick, suffering nausea, and growing so big that the only mode of walking was waddling.
I grew increasingly frustrated at my dropping energy levels and my inability to focus. I watched my husband enjoy the anticipation of fatherhood with none of the physical difficulties.
I don’t begrudge him that, after all I’m a mother, a life grew inside me. But the difference in experience and outcomes was something I had time to reflect on during my maternity leave, and now with my second child imminent, it is something that I’m once again forced to consider.
Having children affects women’s life options in ways that simply don’t affect men. Some of them are purely biological, obviously, but many are due to cultural norms about motherhood and fatherhood, others are institutional with structures created to be almost deliberately unfavourable to the person engaging in childcare, the mother.
I’m not the only one thinking about maternity leave. Its existence, importance and its implementation are part of a broader conversation. The UK has been gradually implementing shared paternity leave over the first year. The UAE has had heated debates about 45-day maternity leave, and the 30 minute breastfeeding breaks. This week, a CNN anchor was suddenly replaced while she was on maternity leave, prompting complaints from her colleagues.
The issues that women face around the world – such as inequality in education, access, health care, rights and a plethora of abuse – are all exacerbated at the point of becoming a mother. This is the case in both the developing and the developed world.
Having my daughter was my first significant experience of how being a woman affected my options. My relationship with work changed in a way that was not the case for my husband. I was at home with the baby. My schedule centred around breastfeeding and her naps, and eventually finding a balance between keeping her close to me and identifying the right amount of time for her to spend at nursery. And still retaining enough time for me to work, to bring in some income, to keep contributing to the community I am part of.
Of course I’m under no illusions that my critics will say that being a mother is enough of a reward, or it’s the ultimate job, or that I made a choice and I have to fulfil it.
As a Muslim woman, the emphasis from Islam has always been on the important role that mothers play. But that doesn’t mean that work, social activism and so many other activities are forever excluded just for the sake of it.
It is simply our social structures that don’t offer the flexibility required to ensure mothers and fathers can engage equally in multiple spheres of their work and family life. And it’s good for the little ones too to be involved in their parents’ lives.
Woman and mother are not synonyms. Nor should they be. Being a mother doesn’t mean being reduced to nothing more than the bearer and carer of a child.
Shelina Zahra Janmohamed is the author of Love in a Headscarf and blogs at www.spirit21.co.uk
