Who will get your VOTE in this mother of all years?
From the pressures of home schooling to giving birth alone, it’s been such a tough time for women. Now’s your chance to nominate your own heroines
The past 12 months have seen mums taking on myriad new challenges, swapping hats so many times a day they feel faint with giddiness, and keeping enough plates spinning to feed an entire canteen.
even if subordinate clauses and multiple division aren’t their forte, mums have shouldered most of the burden of home schooling. even when weighed down with their own worries about the pandemic, most have focused on lifting their children’s spirits.
If ever there’s been a year when mums have had to go the extra mile — and then some — it’s this one. They have cared for children and elderly relatives, checked in on neighbours and offered support to total strangers.
And most have done so while also holding down jobs, whether working from home or as doctors, nurses, pharmacists, teachers and shop workers.
So today we are celebrating those mothers, with the launch of our 2021 Inspirational Mother of the Year Award, and sharing some of their stories, from the woman kept apart from her newborn triplets to the single mum-of-two who went back to frontline nursing.
But we want you to nominate the most inspiring mother you know. She could be a friend, sister, daughter or, of course, your own mum. The winner will
be announced in time for Mother’s Day on March 14. It’s time to honour the exceptional contribution mothers have made to all our lives over the past 12 months.
‘I WAS ISOLATED FROM MY TRIPLETS STRAIGHT AFTER THE BIRTH’
WITH triplets to care for, Ashleigh Shirajudin barely has time to draw breath. While she’s trying to feed one baby, there’s another to be changed and another to be soothed.
Add in homeschooling her nine-year- old daughter Layla and one might expect Ashleigh, 30, to be crying out for a moment to herself. But far from it. In fact, Ashleigh begrudges every second she spends apart from her babies, Milly, Mia and Molly Mae, who are now nearly five months old.
And who can blame her? For the triplets were whisked away from her the minute they were born after she contracted Covid-19.
When she fell pregnant in March 2020, Ashleigh, from Rhos-on-Sea in Wales, had no idea the impact the pandemic would have on her life. It was her second IVF attempt with partner Chris Moonan, 33, a floor-layer whom she met and fell in love with in 2017.
‘I took the pregnancy test on March 31, and it felt so strange that just as the country started locking down, Chris and I were overjoyed and celebrating,’ she says.
TWO fertilised eggs had been implanted, but at the first sevenweek scan, which Ashleigh attended alone due to coronavirus restrictions, the consultant found three heartbeats. One of the eggs had split: Ashleigh was expecting triplets.
‘I was in shock,’ she says. ‘I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. It seemed so extraordinary. We’d been desperate for a single baby: now I was expecting three.’
Slowly, the reality sank in. ‘While we were thrilled, we were acutely aware there was a high risk that we could lose one, or all, of the babies. I had a scan every two weeks. My nerves were in shreds, wondering how many heartbeats they’d find.’
As a carer going into elderly people’s homes, Ashleigh was at high risk of catching Covid, so she was delighted when offered furlough in early May.
The triplets were due to be delivered by Caesarean at 32 weeks, as Ashleigh had developed cholestasis, a liver disorder that can be dangerous to babies. But at the pre-operation check-up, her routine Covid test came back positive.
The implications were devastating. Although it was unlikely that the babies would have Covid, Ashleigh would have to isolate for ten days after the birth without the babies. For Chris, it would be 14 days isolation and he could not be present at the birth.
‘Everything went into freefall,’ recalls Ashleigh. ‘I was terrified for myself, the babies and for my family. If I had Covid, it was almost certain that my parents did too, as they often look after Layla and we’d been in each other’s houses.’
Sure enough, her parents fell ill that weekend, followed by her grandparents. ‘I was riddled with guilt and couldn’t stop crying,’ she says. ‘I suspected I’d brought Covid into the family because I was exposed to so many people during my hospital visits.’
Ashleigh, who never suffered any Covid symptoms herself, worked herself up into such an emotional state, the consultant brought the Casearean forward to October 5. To the couple’s relief, she also agreed Chris could be present.
Being wheeled into theatre at Glan Clwyd Hospital, Bodelwyddan, felt like entering a war zone. All the midwives — one for each baby — and doctors were in full PPE. Even the equipment was wrapped in protective layers.
Ashleigh was conscious but with a shield blocking her view. ‘The waiting was awful, then the relief as I heard each little cry was indescribable,’ she says. Aware this was the only view Ashleigh would get of them, the surgeon lifted each tiny newborn — weighing between 3lb 1oz and 3lb 6oz — up for a few seconds and Chris took a photo on his phone. Then the midwives whisked them away to the neonatal unit.
‘I heard them cry for a few more minutes and then silence,’ says Ashleigh. ‘They were gone. Half an hour after they were born, Chris was ushered out. I’ve never felt sadder or more alone.
‘When you give birth, all you want is to hold your baby. Instead, there was just emptiness. The longing was so intense, it hurt.’
Because the babies might also have Covid, nurses had to wear full gowns, gloves and masks when handling them until tests when they were three and five days old proved negative.
This all added to Ashleigh’s anguish. ‘No one could tell me what would happen if they tested positive. The doctors reassured me they were well and there was no reason for them not to pull through, but it was hard not to catastrophize.’ Self-isolating back at home, Chris sent Ashleigh the photos of their newborn babies.
‘I was crying so much I could barely focus,’ she recalls. ‘Everyone says how important it is for newborns to have skin contact with their parents. Covid took all that away.’
Aware of Ashleigh’s distress, staff bent over backwards to help. Nurses sent photos of the babies in their incubators and cute messages: ‘Good Morning, Mummy. We’ve all slept well.’ Then, on October 7, just two days after giving birth, Ashleigh was discharged from hospital.
‘Walking into an empty house was horrific,’ she says. ‘I didn’t even have Layla. She was isolating with my parents. It was surreal. Here I was, a mum of four, without any of my children.’
BACK home, Ashleigh expressed breast milk for her babies and left a bottle on the porch each day for a friend to deliver to the hospital. ‘I felt I was doing something,’ she says. ‘The nurses arranged for me to FaceTime the girls. It intensified my longing to be with them. They looked so tiny and helpless, with tubes and wires everywhere. They needed cuddles.’
Finally, on October 12, Ashleigh was allowed into the hospital. ‘I was so excited,’ she says. ‘I’d worried that because I’d not been with them, they wouldn’t feel like mine — but as I picked each one up, the love was instant.’
After that, Ashleigh visited every day for up to eight hours at a time and sent endless photos to Chris and Layla. Neither of them developed Covid and Ashleigh’s parents were recovering well. But her grandma, Rose, 89, was taken into hospital and, sadly, died 15 days after the triplets were born.
‘It makes me so sad because, although Nan had seen photos, she never got to hold the babies,’ says Ashleigh.
On November 9, and weighing just over 4lb each, the triplets were well enough to go home. Nurses and doctors lined the corridor to clap the new family out.
Three months later, the girls are thriving and developing distinct personalities. ‘Mia is cheeky, Millie is chilled and Molly Mae is the serious one,’ says Ashleigh.
‘I know I’m lucky they are so healthy, and I’m confident they won’t suffer any long-term effects from being parted from me for the first week of their lives, but it doesn’t stop me feeling guilty for all the love they missed.
‘Maybe that’s why I still find it hard to believe the girls really are here and really are mine.’
Evening is Ashleigh’s favourite time, as she cuddles up in bed with Layla and the triplets. ‘I want the world to stop so I can keep staring at them.’