Fall of a modern mummy?

On Monday, the Royal College of Gynaecologists and Obstetricians will publish evidence of the increased medical risks of pregnancy in older mothers, no doubt sparking another wave of debate over a trend which sees a growing number of women waiting until their late 30s and early 40s before starting a family.  Meanwhile, the internet is awash with articles about mothers struggling to combine family and career, pumping their breast milk in toilets while grappling with the guilt of leaving their babies with strangers while they go out to work. Lifestyle magazines feature one-time career types who’ve swapped their six-figure salaries and Louboutin heels for the school run and a pair of flats from Topshop whilst eulogising about the joys of being stay-at-home mums.

So what’s going on?  Why, after years of fighting to prove that we can have it all, are women finding it harder than ever to do just that?  Is some seismic societal shift still required, some magic bullet that will let us finally fulfil our potential to successfully judge marriage, parenthood and career?  Or is it we ourselves that need to change, to admit that the feminists were wrong, to – gasp – lower our expectations?  Is the myth of the modern mummy finally dead?

Whatever your opinions on the matter, there’s no getting around one fact; your late teens to early thirties are the best years to have a baby – and these years rather inconveniently coincide with the defining years of your working life.  For those in high-powered, frequently male dominated professions, this often means making a decision about whether having children during these pivotal years will mean sacrificing long held career aspirations – and as this article from the BBC proves, many do indeed choose to wait, albeit at their peril.  For others, giving birth in their reproductive prime marks the beginning of a complicated juggling act that leaves many mums feeling like a jack of all trades but master of none, with all the associated guilt.

So, is it time we all woke up and smelled the babycino?  Is it time for those of us who recognise the value of motherhood as an ambition in its own right to take a stand?  The female undergraduates at Oxford University certainly seem to think so.  In the same halls where feminists once campaigned for their right to study there, students are now admitting that their hard-earned degrees could end up gathering dust because they’re not prepared to sacrifice their child-bearing years for a job.  And I say good on them.

The game is up ladies – you can’t have a baby in your fertile years and expect your career to be unaffected.  Something’s gotta give – and for me it’s not going to be motherhood.  I’ve cut back to three days a week at work and I’m not ruling out the notion of going freelance in the future, if we’re lucky enough to be blessed with more babies.  I’ve accepted that I’m never going to set the world alight professionally, and I’m never going to make pots of money. But I don’t regret my decision to make the most of my best years, reproductively speaking, no matter what it might mean for my future career.

I still have career goals and I’d be lying if I said I never worried that they might never come to fruition because of that decision.  I can’t see myself ever being content to work shifts in M&S.  But for now, it’s enough for me to let work come second while I luxuriate in these fleeting days of nursery rhymes and food-smeared faces and ‘firsts’.  Hideously old-fashioned it might be, but I’m happy to make the sacrifice, at least while my son still lights up when I walk into the room.  There’ll be plenty of time for work when he’s a sullen teenager who thinks I am without doubt the most annoying, boring person on the planet.

I do still have a career that I’m passionate about but the way I see it I’ve finally taken my mum’s advice – and got myself a real job.