ON MOTHERHOOD AND CREATING THE PARENT VILLAGE

A guest post by Zara Preston - Mother, Teacher, Co-founder of the Parent Village, and all round fantastic person.

Good morning from my new kitchen. Sitting and looking out as the birds fly to their nut feeders over from the trees. I’ve never had a feeling so appreciative of what we call life. This is the peaceful start to the day, when minds are fresh (ish) and we are still all in our pyjamas after the first few days back to school for my eldest two daughters. It’s been a rather busy few days but I’m glad to be writing and capturing this moment – it’s a moment of stillness in the chaos and I have a hot cup of tea.

First interruption from cat No. 1…

I’ve been asked to write a few words for the launch of the West Berkshire Family Life new website and I couldn’t be more honoured. The journey with children has taken from my first nearly-homebirth in September 2019*, to my second actual homebirth in summer 2021*, to my third and final c-section last summer in 2024*.

Anyway, we are finally in a space that fits us all in (just!) and finally have a garden that the girls can explore to their hearts’ content (yes, we have three girls under 5: wish us luck when they’re 12, 14 and 15…!).

Second interruption from baby No. 1…

My link to WBFL came when I used it as a main go-to for my first pregnancy workshop that was sponsored by Educafe and run by The Parent Village. I wanted the workshop to inform women about the local community, the local help, and support them with any advice they asked for. Knowledge is power when it comes to birth. When I think back to how my Mum told me that when she got to the hospital in the 80s, her midwife said, “Don’t worry – we’ll take it from here.”. That has blown my mind – how do other women know how your own body feels? It felt like a lot of information that women are given was outdated and old fashioned. My Nan was a ‘call the midwife’ and she had 7 children. If she can have seven, then I can handle three...some days though I’m amazed I’ve made it through and then there are some days when I’ve done all the laundry, made a loaf, done the dishwasher, hung some hooks on the wall: all sorts of things. Parenthood is a total oxymoronic rollercoaster. We need people to go through it with. We need people to cheer us on when we’ve got two hours to bedtime and the only thing that helps is wine. Let’s not even go there with childcare. That is for another day. The pregnancy workshop was an extension of our original idea where my friend and I saw a space for people to meet and help each other.

My girls in the woods.

The Parent Village started from two pregnant women sat in a garden.

Third interruption from baby No. 1…

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So… two women sat in a garden. My friend Colline and I (from the amazing Colline’s Kitchen) met during lockdown when I started a little tie dye business. My first daughter was six months old or so. All the proceeds went to the NHS and I loved doing a little bit: it kept me busy in a creative way. I learnt so much as a new skill and experimented with colour and design. The girls still have so many clothes from that era. Anyway, Colline saw some of my tie dye online and she bought some for her eldest. She came to collect and played in our garden, and among many more meet ups, we both soon realised we were pregnant with our second babies and due 1 day apart. What we didn’t know is that they were both born on the same day, and we would be rooms apart, in the same ward, in the same hospital. Still gives me chills at how life happens.

Fourth interruption from child No. 2…

So Colline had the idea about creating an Educafe: a place for people of the community to meet once a week and connect, learn, relax, and (most importantly) eat cake. A place for many minds to create a hub of joy and refuge. We spoke about how this could be the space that could hold our parent meet up. After the painful upbringing of children after lockdown, parents were vulnerable and trapped. The world operated differently. We needed people to be close again. The baby weigh-ins had shut down, baby groups had closed, people shut their doors and were afraid of interaction. But the creation of Parent Village didn’t just come from a post-lockdown state, it came from a historical viewpoint where the community that supports parents has been diminishing for a long time. I remember my Grandparents and all my Aunties (I come from a very big family) talking about their village and how all their neighbours would help them bring up the children. How people, post war, helped everyone. They had to. The men were away; the women had to survive. Colline and I felt that that neighbourly interaction needed a change…I felt nervous to knock on front doors without asking and that felt like such a shame. We’d lost something. I love people knocking on my door randomly, without warning – for either a catch up or a hello. It’s the unplanned moments. Like Stuart* who knocked on my door at 5:30pm and Oscar had to call me in to start bathtime at 6pm…he was in his 80s and he’d walked round. I’m still yet to return to his door – but tomorrow I’m making fig cake and I can’t wait to see his face when he knows it’s for him. Cooking for others is the most joyful thing on the planet. That’s probably why Colline and I get on.

With social interaction, the community hesitancy was already there before but lockdown enhanced it – people were scared of shaking hands, of being too close to each other. We had to be more open to nurturing each other and looking after one another. We had to connect again. We had to love more.

So Parent Village came out of that – a need for our own village. We needed one – so we made one. Every week, we invited parents to join us for tea, coffee and cake. No schedule, all free of charge, no pressure to arrive at a certain time (anywhere between 11am and 1pm). No poo explosions would make you late and then you’d lose money and be late to class. Other parent classes felt like that. Such a rush and so expensive. Our way seemed to work. Parents needed it. The group pulled in 20-40 parents a week and now has 1000+ people on 3 whatsapp groups – 1 generic one for open ended questions, one for selling on baby/children items, and one recipe swap.

With my eldest at tots cinema, Corn Exchange

During one of our first in-person meets, a parent came along in need and the help that a local charity gave her made her break down in tears. This community support wasn’t just for cake anymore, it was survival. It seemed like we had made something more important that we ever thought possible. I thrived on being helpful. My teaching background made me enjoy organising it and I began to use connections that I’d developed over my first few pregnancies and births. From my paediatric nutritionist friend, to council-run breastfeeding advice,  to a hypnobirthing friend, to finding musical talents in the area, to sleep consultants, to first aiders, to matrescence talks, to women’s health experts, and even fitness gurus who came in to check whether we had separated abdominal muscles after birth. I kept inviting people and people kept coming. You name it, we had the support for it. I invited specialists in their field to come and talk to us, in a relaxed space to offer support for new mums or any mums who needed it. I’ve now passed the baton on as I focus on moving into an actual village (!). The Parent Village in Newbury is still thriving – albeit with the usual fundraising challenges. I can only hope for the same support from the place I’ve now moved to. It’s been my proudest achievement bar our engagement, buying a second house, and of course, our three little ladies. My online tutoring has been a humongous success as well – I had to leave a structured school timetable so I created flexible work on my terms and it has been life changing.

Fifth interruption: breakfast…

Sixth interruption: Organising girls bedroom…

Seventh interruption: Tutoring a new pupil…

This may be my eighth time I’ve sat down to write this since starting it two days ago. I’ve just gone over the piece – added bits in and added lots more detail to other areas. I hope you enjoy the honest approach where I’ve talked through all my daily interruptions.

And here we are, all the girls come one by one from their bath with Daddy. The biggest one comes and snuggles straight into me, reading the words as I type and smiling as she can read now. Her wet hair is soaking on my shoulder. My second one says how I’ve written lots of words and asks me to write ‘poop in my pants’.  That’s one crazy middle child, alright. The third one, only just a toddler, but still my baby, clambers on and I am barely struggling to type with her forehead pressed into my throat and cuddling so hard. The twenty minutes she left me for the bath felt like a lifetime to her. I feel like I can’t be surrounded by any more love if I tried.

The view at dusk out of our new bedroom window finishes off this article as I dream about what our new home could be. I start to realise that this is the luckiest I’ve ever felt. Stuff of dreams and that. More on this soon. But for now, happy home everyone. And here’s to cheering each other on. We made it, our village.

 *I’ve published all my birth stories on my blog, so head over there if you fancy a read: www.quetzalcoatl.co.uk.

The first ever Educafe in June 2021, my second was 3 weeks old.