'I've swapped Wolverhampton potholes and politics for motherhood and I'm loving it'

I've always lived life at 120mph for as long as I can remember. Working as a Labour councillor and cabinet member in Wolverhampton from 2018-2023 whilst juggling a business, a corporate job and a busy social life. I'm no stranger to a few hours sleep and life in the fast lane. 

Before my baby son Abel, now eight-weeks-old, was born, I felt prepared for many aspects of life with a newborn. After all, I'd been debating the whiney politicians in opposition in Wolverhampton for years and they never phased me, so surely parenthood wouldn't either.

Before my son's arrival, in my usual pedantic and organised fashion, I tried to plan and prepare for every aspect of his care by making lists for everything and ticking them off as each item was bought. From the bath, body and milk thermometers to swaddle sleeping bags I thought was prepared for all eventualities.

But what I hadn't prepared for was the change in mindset I was about to experience, one that's actually at odds with my normal 'go getting' brain. These first few months as a new mum has felt like I'm living in some sort of paradoxical universe. You achieve and learn so much from your little bundle of joy, mainly about successfully keeping them alive, first with breast feeding and then with baby formula.

Yet, there's a never ending conveyor belt of laundry and bottles to be washed and the 'to do list' becomes a mere fantasy. There are not enough hours in the day and I'm the busiest I've ever been in my life, but also some days I'm incredibly bored. Conversations with other mums on maternity leave are limited to chat about nappy consistency, formula brands, teething and baby sleeping patterns. 

No-one asks me about my views on the Middle East conflict anymore despite me having travelled there to do humanitarian aid work a number of times. So, for now I've been avoiding the mum social groups. I can't bare another conversation about why 'breast is best'. If only they'd talk to me about the end of life bill that's just passed in Parliament or Wolverhampton Council's upcoming budget, I'd be at every mum group in the city.

Another paradox has been the shift in my identity. I've gone from being the fixer to the one that needs fixing. For as long as I can remember, I have been the person who's been there to help fix people's problems. I've always had a deep compassion and determination, rooted in my faith, to help alleviate the problems of others, especially those who are vulnerable. 

I ran a food bank during the pandemic from my kitchen table and have been known to buy residents gifts for their children at Christmas when they've landed on hard times. Becoming a mum has shifted me though and I now am the one that has relied on the compassion of those around me. Not financially, but emotionally and mentally.

I've hugely benefited from the kindness I've been shown by those around me since my son's birth. Becoming a mum has shifted the sense of who I am and all of the things that made me who I was before my son. Those things are still there, but they're just much lower down in the priority list because this gorgeous baby, tiny but with a huge influence has come along and shifted what's truly important to me.

Truthfully, the normal confident and bold me has never felt so clueless and insecure since becoming a mum. So having my army of friends and neighbours visit each week, send texts during their busy days and encourage me with the kind words, has meant everything to me, it's helped heal parts of me during times of confusion and insecurity. I never truly understood the saying 'it takes a village to raise a child' until Abel was born and I don't think we would have survived without our little village.

For this I'm forever grateful. Every time I look at my son I'm filled with a love so deep and incomprehensible, I want to protect him and his innocence from all the things that are wrong in this world. I'm also inherently aware that he's so lucky to be surrounded by so much love through our family and friends. He's peacefully oblivious that he's been visited by Government Minister, Pat McFadden MP when he was just two-weeks-old or that he visited the mayor's parlour at just five-weeks-old. 

When he's older I'll tell him that it was the Prime Minister's right-hand man Pat who bought his first pack of nappies for him when I was pregnant.

Do I miss it?

That's what all the politicians in the city ask me, hell yes is the answer.  I miss making a difference through politics in the world and in the city, but I wouldn't change my decision to leave politics for anything. When I rock my son to sleep or watch him giggle, my heart is full in a way that nothing and no one has ever made it feel full, and I wouldn't change that for anything in the world. Having him choose me to be his mum is the greatest honour I've ever had, more than any appointment to any cabinet or promotion during my time in politics.

Would I make a return to politics when Abel gets older? Never say never.