At four weeks postpartum, I returned to work. It’s a decision that many have questioned and even glorified, and I understand why. But I want to make one thing clear: this isn’t a glorification of hustle culture. My return is a reflection of the broken system that fails to support new mothers, especially those who don’t have the privilege of staying home with their newborns. For many women, returning to work isn’t a choice; it’s a necessity.
Kemi Badenoch recently likened herself to Margaret Thatcher, attempting to gloss over her remarks about maternity pay. It was infuriating to hear her describe maternity pay as “excessive” and suggest that parents should take more personal responsibility. Only someone with immense privilege could make such comments. Britain’s maternity pay is among the lowest in Europe. When a Tory leadership candidate dismisses the financial realities of new parents with such ease, it underscores just how detached they are from the struggles we face.
My life’s work centers on women’s health equity—addressing the gender and racial health disparities that persist in our system. But since having my daughter, Daya, who has already spent time in the children’s hospital and will soon face surgery, my motivation has only intensified.
I returned to work driven by two main motivations: to help fix a broken healthcare system so that Daya, and others like her, are never harmed by it, and to highlight the lack of support for new mothers during maternity leave.
Heartlands Hospital and the Children’s Hospital Birmingham have provided exceptional care, but I know the challenges that lie ahead, especially for women of color.
In an ideal world, I would have taken a year off to bond with my rainbow baby. But instead, I’ve returned to work, albeit at a reduced capacity, with a clear purpose: #DoingItForDaya. Every penny I earn is going into her savings, a reminder of the fight we have ahead to ensure she gets the support she needs.
There’s another, less romantic, reason for my early return to work—the cold, hard reality of statutory maternity pay. At a time when we’re grappling with a cost-of-living crisis and an economic downturn, the third sector is struggling to stay afloat. Despite having a supportive husband who eases some of our financial burden, statutory maternity pay doesn’t even come close to covering basic expenses. How is £800 per month—just a fraction of many families’ outgoings—meant to support us? Our mortgage alone swallows most of that. Self-employed parents, can claim a maternity allowance of £184.03 per week, but calling it “excessive” is ludicrous. This is the harsh reality that forces so many of us back to work far sooner than we’re ready.
I worked right up until my emergency C-section. Some of you might even remember me canceling appointments last minute because I was rushed into surgery. That’s the level of pressure new mothers are under. I knew long before Daya’s arrival that I would need to save, save, save. Now, I’m healing from major surgery, struggling to walk properly, and yet, I’m back to work. The support for mothers like me—those recovering from surgery, those who face postpartum complications, and those forced to return to work early—is woefully inadequate.
We deserve better. New mothers deserve more support. Where is the real help for those of us trying to juggle recovery, new motherhood, and financial survival?
The reality is, I don’t have all the answers. But I do have plenty of questions. And one thing is certain: I will continue to speak out on these issues until we see the change we desperately need. If politicians like Badenoch want to encourage higher birth rates, they need to stop punishing us financially for having children and start recognizing that supporting families is essential for the future of our country.
This isn’t about glorifying hard work; it’s about survival. It’s about demanding more for ourselves and our children.
I’m doing it for Daya, but really, I’m doing it for all of us.
