Being a working mum isn’t just about juggling responsibilities; it’s about navigating a corporate world that often sees motherhood as an inconvenience. I recently asked for stories from mums who’ve been through the return-to-work gauntlet, and what I got back was equal parts infuriating and painfully familiar. These aren’t just bad workplace experiences. They are a glaring sign that the system is fundamentally broken.
Here are three stories that need to be heard.
“Just Ignore the Nursery’s Calls” – A First-Time Mum’s Return to Work Hell
Since announcing my pregnancy, work became… unbearable. I had a high-risk pregnancy, which my employer knew about, yet my manager insisted I join meetings - even when I was in hospital, strapped to monitors. The stress got so bad that I had to start my maternity leave early.
Returning to work wasn’t any easier. I had to fight for a phased return, something I needed because of childcare logistics. But the real kicker? When my child got sick, I was told to dose him up with Calpol and Nurofen before dropping him at nursery and ignore any calls if they asked me to collect him. HR’s response? A big, corporate shrug.
But the final insult came after I returned and caught up on all the work my manager had been unable to handle in my absence. Once I’d stabilised everything? Redundancy.
I’m now fighting back, but it’s expensive. The legal system makes it nearly impossible for working parents to challenge these things, and the companies? Well, they have deep pockets. The toll it’s taken on my mental health is brutal. First-time motherhood is hard enough without this added stress.
I’m not even sure if this qualifies as a ‘return-to-work’ story, since I no longer have a job. But I needed to share it, even just to remind myself that I’m not alone.
— A very tired and stressed-out mum.
The Hidden Cost of Career Guilt and Corporate Manipulation
It’s a funny thing, being a working mum. You’re expected to do everything, be the perfect employee, the present parent, and somehow keep a grasp on your own identity, all while corporate policies slowly chip away at your sanity.
Take Anna. A software engineer, loyal to her company for over a decade. She returned from maternity leave only to be presented with a “new opportunity” (translation: a role she never asked for, designed to push her out). When she declined? The punishment was swift. A senior leader told her, point-blank, that refusing would be seen as a “black mark” on her career. Oh, and regardless of her actual work, the best performance review she could hope for was a 2 - solid underperformer territory.
It’s a power play. And it works because working mums are already conditioned to feel guilty. Guilty for wanting to progress. Guilty for not sacrificing more. Guilty for pushing back.
Anna stayed in that role for years, trying to make the best of it. But the damage was done. Eventually, she left, handed in her resignation, and started anew at a leading software house. And guess what? She thrived. She flipped the corporate world two fingers and reclaimed her power.
To every working mum stuck between the weight of expectation and the reality of workplace toxicity: You don’t have to accept it. You deserve more.
Pregnancy in a Man’s World – A Former Police Employee’s Reality Check
I worked in the police force. Not an officer, just staff. But the way my pregnancy was treated, you’d think I was personally bringing down the whole institution.
I told my boss I was pregnant at five weeks because it was during Covid. His response? “I’ll need to speak to the Chief Constable about staffing levels.” Ah yes, apologies for the inconvenience of creating life.
I had hyperemesis gravidarum - severe sickness - and was on so much medication that my doctor told me not to drive. My boss’s response? “I’ll need to inform the police service that you’re not deployable.” (Again, not a police officer. My job was admin.)
At 38 weeks pregnant, I drove myself to a work visit. It was a short journey, but my boss refused to reimburse my expenses. At 38 weeks pregnant. A different manager saw me and immediately said, “Ooft, I can see why you’d drive yourself.” No kidding.
Then came maternity leave. I took six months. When I requested my accrued annual leave to extend my time off, my boss declined it. Apparently, it “wasn’t fair to other staff” and he “didn’t see why I needed extra holidays after already being off so long.” A call to my union sorted that, but honestly? The audacity.
The final straw was my flexible working request: full-time hours over four days with Fridays off. My boss took the full 11 weeks to decline it, conveniently leaving me no time to make alternative childcare arrangements before returning. When I appealed, he cancelled the meeting ten minutes before it started and refused to reschedule.
When I did return, I was given the biggest region to manage… alone. I lasted six months before I broke. I left the police after six years. Now? I work at a company that values me, have been promoted, and have had two pay raises. I’ve since had another baby, and the difference in treatment is night and day. Only now do I fully see how badly I was treated: because in a man’s world, being a pregnant woman was a problem that needed managing.
— Anonymous Working Mum
We Shouldn’t Have to Fight This Hard
If you’ve read these stories and felt a familiar pang in your chest, you’re not alone. So many of us have been conditioned to believe that the struggles of working motherhood are just part of the deal. But they’re not. They’re the result of broken systems, archaic workplace cultures, and a lingering belief that our ability to have children somehow makes us less valuable employees.
So here’s my message to employers: We’re done accepting this. We’re done being feeling guilty. And to every working mum who has fought, cried, or questioned themselves: You are not alone. You deserve better. And the more we share these stories, the harder it becomes for companies to keep sweeping them under the rug.
This International Women’s Day: we must act boldly and decisively for all women and girls. Change starts here, with us - by calling out injustice, demanding better, and refusing to accept a system that forces mothers to choose between their careers and their children.
And most importantly, change starts with empowering the next generation. Because our daughters deserve to step into a workforce that values them - not in spite of their ability to have children, but because of the strength, resilience, and talent they bring to the table.
Such an important piece and it’s themes like this that brought me onto Substack and what I hope to explore ❤️