Maternity leave, miscarriage, and motherhood: A personal story for women who work

Trigger warning. This article shares my lived experience of fertility treatment, pregnancy loss, and postnatal depression. My perspective is through the lens of a female business owner and a high achiever at work.? By publishing my story, I hope to offer solidarity to others who have also questioned their ability to do it all.

My twin boys have just turned two years old. Trying to survive with a smile on my face during this time has been the hardest thing I’ve ever done.

Over the years, I’ve spoken up about many different challenges that I’ve overcome in my career, such as:

• Going from desperately unemployed to launching my own business at 26
• Building industry credibility as a young Asian Australian female founder, and
• Taking the leap to expand my business?across multiple continents.

Now that I’m starting to emerge from the fog of newfound parenthood, I can reflect on how I got here with a bit more grace.

This article shares my experience as a working mum. There are 3 key paradigms I’d like to touch on that I think will resonate with other women. These are:

• The decision to have children
• The challenges trying to have children
• The work-life juggle once you have children.

The decision to have children

When I was younger, I thought I never wanted kids. I was the eldest of three in a working-class family. My parents were never home after school because they worked long hours in hospitality.

During my senior years, I was responsible for collecting my 11-year-old sister and 5-year-old brother from school, taking them to tutoring or swimming while I did the grocery shopping. I then cooked, cleaned, helped with their homework, and put them to bed before I had a moment to myself.

I was the oldest of three. I played the caretaker role so much that I swore I never wanted children. That changed when I met James.

Because of this, I thought: having children sucks. I wanted freedom, not to be tied up with responsibility. But after meeting my now-husband James and seeing how much he wanted kids, my feelings changed. The only problem was that I had to confront the reality of how it would impact my career.

How family fits into one’s career is a dilemma that every woman deals with at some point. In my case, I had to evaluate whether to keep running my business or get a ‘real’ job. Would my team survive without me? How much time would I take off? How would I pay myself maternity leave? Could I afford it?

Unsure about how I’d manage financially, I reluctantly created a budget. My husband and I calculated we’d need:

• $40,000 to survive on a single income for 6 months
• $60,000 to survive on a single income for 12 months.

(By the way, I hate maths and am terrible at it, but I’m glad I did this.)

We started tracking our spending. I told myself that if we got into debt, I could always close up shop and get a job in the future if I needed to.

To reach — and accept — this potential outcome was extremely difficult. I had to confront the idea of walking out of my business for the sake of my family and financial wellbeing. No-one wants to be forced into giving up something they’ve built. Thankfully, I haven’t had to (yet).

My two cents about maternity leave in Australia

One unique perspective that I hope to bring on this topic is my position as a business owner in Australia. I am extremely embarrassed at how poorly our government supports entrepreneurship – especially women in business – compared to other countries. One example is payroll tax: the more people I employ, the more tax I must pay. In short, Australians are disincentivised to grow the economy.

?In more progressive countries like Singapore, people are taxed more heavily on what they spend, not what they earn. For example, the average Singaporean only pays 4.5% tax on their income, but owning a car requires a Certificate of Entitlement which costs individuals between $100,000-$150,000 AUD. (In case you were wondering, the public transport system is excellent. Many people don’t need a car.)

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To compensate for the gap between the government’s maternity leave at minimum wage and my cost of living, I had to save up significantly and pay myself.

When it comes to women in business, yes, we have government-funded maternity leave, but this only covers 5 months at minimum wage. That’s $183 a day. Consider the average salary of a woman in Victoria in their 30s, which is $90,000. If they are used to living off approximately $346 per day, how does the government expect a new mother to thrive with her baby at home for half this amount? Throw in the cost-of-living crisis and you’ll see a lot of parents doing it tough.

One day I’d love to see the government change its policy to cover a woman’s full wage, not just the minimum wage. Many countries in Europe already do this. For example, Norway offers 100% pay for almost an entire year.

If you live in Australia and are lucky enough to work at a big company, your organisation might offer more compensation. This is a win for some, but it leaves small businesses like mine with little chance of attracting female employees of child-bearing age.

If you run a small business like me, you’re responsible for figuring out how to access minimum wage through the government and then pay yourself the rest.

The challenges trying to have children

Having a baby isn’t as easy as having sex without a condom, which is basically what we’re taught from a very young age. This indoctrination has led to deep disappointment for many women trying to start families in their 30s and 40s.

In my case, I underwent back-to-back IVF treatment from January 2021 to April 2022.

I think this was before my third major operation, or perhaps it was one of my three failed embryo transfers – I’ve been in and out too many times to remember.

IVF is a rollercoaster, to say the least. Many women prefer to space it out over a long period of time. But once I knew I wanted kids, I chased results quickly. Here’s a snapshot of my journey:

• 5 major surgeries
• 29 eggs collected
• 26 eggs lost
• 3 embryos created
• 2 miscarriages
• 44 injections
• 800 vitamins
• $70k spent (approximately)?

Memories include self-injecting hormones in the toilets at business events (because they must be done at a very specific time). Also, waking up from general anaesthesia trying to manage an incredibly demanding client on the phone. You’re supposed to sign a waiver saying you won’t do anything important (like drive or sign legal documents) for 24 hours.

But you don’t always have a choice when you run a business. Your clients often don’t know what you’re going through.

Another memory is going through miscarriage and dealing with one of the most stressful staff situations I’ve ever had in my life. A senior employee wasn’t happy with some decisions I’d made and was giving me a very hard time about it. What was most traumatic was that she knew what I was going through, but didn’t seem to care. It’s not ideal when emotions from one’s personal life start to impact one’s professional life, but I still think women deserve compassion when it comes to solving issues at work.

Always giving 100% despite the circumstances

I’m not sharing my story to vent. I’m sharing it to shine a light on how many women bring their best to work every day while suffering in silence.

1 in 18 babies in Australia are currently born via IVF, which means you probably know someone going through a challenging fertility journey right now.?

While we should talk about IVF and pregnancy loss more often, there are many reasons why women don’t. For example, they might be thinking:

• I didn’t want anyone to think I was incapable of doing my job.
• I didn’t want clients to think I couldn’t deliver exceptional work.
• I didn’t want employees to think I couldn’t support them.

One of the most significant reasons for silence is this: sometimes we just don’t feel like talking about IVF and pregnancy loss. Sometimes we’re in denial or still processing our thoughts. I found that I poured myself into work because that was one thing I could control. This is probably a mindset that many hardworking women share.

Last month, I purchased a bundle of ribbons from Still Aware to raise awareness about pregnancy and infant loss. Ashamedly, once I received them, I couldn’t put one on. Even years on from my miscarriages, I didn’t want to talk about it face-to-face with others.

A confronting look at miscarriage

Let me get real with you about pregnancy loss. I found out about my first miscarriage at our 6-week ultrasound. There was a heartbeat, but it was so slow that the doctor said it would not survive.

I had to walk out of that clinic that day and go about my normal life waiting for my baby to die. It passed through bleeding about a week or two later.

I am not the only woman that this has happened to. Seriously, we still come to the office and act like nothing unusual is going on.

When I got pregnant a second time and went in for that 6-week ultrasound, I thought surely it couldn’t happen to me again. But it did. As soon as the screen came up, I broke down in tears when I saw the heartbeat was too slow again. After that, I did not bleed naturally. I had to go in for surgery to remove the baby a couple of weeks later.

For the science lovers, click above to see a time-lapse clip of an embryo that didn’t make it.

Going overseas for IVF treatment with donor gametes

Today I’m blessed with twin boys. But not every woman gets a good outcome. I almost gave up on IVF so many times due to physical, emotional, and financial exhaustion.

Excuse my simplistic explanation, but through research and speaking to many friends, I realised there are two common issues when it comes to infertility:

• the quality of the egg and/or sperm (they don’t seem compatible, or fuse into genetically flawed embryos called mosaics that often lead to loss), or
• the woman’s uterus struggles to hold a pregnancy (i.e. she has a medical condition that impacts an embryo’s ability to attach to the womb’s lining).

As I’d had two losses, I knew I could hold a pregnancy. My issue was the former. I started exploring donor eggs and/or sperm. Accessing donor gametes is extremely difficult in Australia.

I ended up going to a clinic in Greece that a friend recommended – and I got pregnant with our twins the first time around.

Based on my experience, I strongly recommend IVF overseas. In fact, I wish we’d travelled to Europe sooner (many also go to Spain). We would’ve saved a lot of money, time, and suffering. It only took days from my initial query to securing a video consultation with a specialist. It was then only a few weeks until I flew to Athens for treatment and scored a BFP (big fat positive) pregnancy test before coming home.

My twins were conceived by Dr Nikos Kanakas at Embryoland in Athens, Greece. Being one of his many patients from around the world was an amazing experience.

I have very strong opinions on IVF in Australia. It’s expensive and hard to navigate. There are many practitioners, yet very few answers when it comes to understanding the best approach or why a cycle failed. (In case you were wondering, I went to Repromed in Adelaide and Newlife in Melbourne – two clinics that I believe are better than most.)?

The work-life juggle once you have children

Up to 20% of women in Australia experience perinatal depression. That’s 1 in 5. I was one of them, although you’d probably never know. In fact, I didn’t even know – I kept thinking I was miserable because I was sleep deprived.

My feelings mostly took the form of beating myself up emotionally:

• I never wanted kids till I met James. Why did I go through with it?
• I went through hell and back to get these boys. Why do I feel so awful?
• I had freedom to do whatever I wanted before this. What have I done?
• I really miss my past life. Does that make me a terrible mother?
• I see everyone else enjoying maternity leave. Am I a monster?
• I keep getting told they’ll grow so fast. Why can’t I enjoy this?

As soon as I started maternity leave, I became so desperate for reprieve that I looked high and low for childcare. I got spots for the boys when they were only 4 months old.

They were the smallest bubs in daycare, but it was so liberating. I dived back into part-time work and started to feel myself again.

Trying to do it all however, was, and still is, a massive thorn in my side.

Some of you might know I used to be an avid adventurer and traveller. After my twins were born, I deeply mourned my past life and became extremely resentful.

The shortcomings of subsidised childcare

In Australia, 11,000 places are withheld every week due to the lack of resources and funding for educators.

I believe women with perinatal depression would be better placed to manage their health if more quality childcare options were accessible, affordable, and available for mothers as soon as babies are born.

We’d feel less guilty for getting some rest. We’d also feel less financial pressure wondering if the dollars stack up.

?I’m not just talking about childcare centres – I’m talking about babysitters, day nannies, night nannies, Au Pairs… Sometimes we just need an hour’s break, while at other times we may need help around the clock. Like me, not everyone has family help around the corner and our emotions are as inconsistent as our children’s sleep schedules.

One time (of many), I had to stop work and pick up Austin from daycare because he was unwell. He took a panorama of how I felt with my iPhone in the backyard.

I eventually mustered up the strength to see a GP and they gave me a mental health treatment plan. Seeing a GP and psychologist was a huge deal because I hate talking about my feelings – I prefer to push them away and hide in my work. After all, I thought, what good does getting emotional do, when there are important emails and chores to get through? (Yes, I’ve always functioned without skipping a beat, despite how I felt at home.)

There were also other valid reasons I didn’t want to see a psychologist: time and money. Carving out an hour to vent when I already had no spare time at all seemed ridiculous.

It just added pressure and another thing to my to-do list. And paying for it? LOL! How indulgent at a time I’m worried about being able to pay our mortgage!

Thankfully, I found a great alternative that I would 100% recommend to other mums like me: self-paced learning and treatment. My GP showed me a program called This Way Up, developed by health professionals (and basically free).

I ‘enrolled’ in the postnatal depression course and managed to chip away at the slides and workbook a few times each week after the kids had gone to bed. While this approach may not work for everyone, it was a convenient way for me to address my negative thoughts in a private space on my schedule.

A screengrab of This Way Up, the self-paced learning materials I used to help me with postnatal depression. I recommend it.

Money can’t buy happiness, but…

?There was another big thing I did to tackle my anxiety: I gave myself a pay rise. Previously, my priority had been taking care of other costs first so the business would survive. In fact, I was paying two employees more than I paid myself.

?Fed up with the financial stress, I spoke to some trusted peers in human resources for their thoughts on my market rate before increasing my salary. To make this work, I had to rejig my business’ budget and make tough decisions about what I could and couldn’t afford, but I feel so much better for it knowing that I can pay my mortgage and now even have enough left over for a cleaner and a gym class each week.

?I’m not sure how this translates into practical advice for other women, but perhaps don’t be afraid to ask for a pay rise or change jobs if you’re on the fast-track to burnout.

Even though maternity leave is fraught with running from one task to another on an empty tank, it provides an opportunity for women to reassess their mindset – including what might best serve them upon going back into the workforce.

Days are still often tricky, but the upside to being a working mum is that I now have a deeper connection to other women in business and leadership roles who strive to do it all. I’m doing much better since the boys started (mostly) sleeping through the night. I’ve also acknowledged that all shall pass, and nothing is lost.

I’ll put more focus back on me once the boys are a little older. Promise.

Hooray – I have survived and am starting to get my life back. We even went to see my family in Singapore in August. The juggle is still overwhelming, but I hope for easier times ahead.

This article has been inspired by a podcast interview I did with life and business coach, Rugare Gomo. Listen to the episode on Spotify by clicking the link below.

In this heartfelt episode, we are joined by the incredible Natalie Khoo, who opens up about her deeply personal and inspiring journey. From navigating the emotional and physical challenges of In Vitro Fertilization (IVF) and experiencing the heartbreak of two miscarriages, to the ultimate joy of conceiving and raising twins, Natalie’s story is a testament to resilience and perseverance.

But her journey doesn’t end there. Over the past 15 years, Natalie has built a thriving content-based business, proving that it’s possible to balance the demands of entrepreneurship and motherhood. She shares how her experiences of loss and triumph shaped her approach to life and business, emphasizing the importance of passion, purpose, and staying true to your vision.

In this episode, we explore the highs and lows of her entrepreneurial path, the lessons she learned about persistence, and how she turned her challenges into opportunities for growth. Whether you’re an aspiring parent, entrepreneur, or simply someone seeking inspiration, this episode offers valuable insights and encouragement.

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