So, how to teach our children about their civil rights, their fragile future, the climate crisis and equip them with the life skills they may need in the event of societal collapse without panicking them and taking away their innocent childhoods?
Holly Cullen-Davies
Environmental activist Holly Cullen-Davies shares with us her experience raising her children whilst being mindful of the current climate crisis. Read on to find out more about how she approaches this very tricky topic.
This is my family
My name is Holly. I’m 38 and the mother of a 9-year-old boy and 7-year old girl. I separated from their dad four years ago. Just before lockdown 2020 I met someone new and he has been living with us since January 2021. My children now have a stepmother, a stepfather and a half baby brother from their dad.
There are lots of elements of this setup that I could write about but what I would like to focus on in today’s article is the subject of raising children in the climate crisis. This will be on the minds of lots of parents, whatever the age of their children, and the journey for me has been an interesting one, particularly over the last two years during the Covid pandemic.
I have always cared passionately about the environment and have had the fear of global warming hanging over me since I was a child. I had a pretty happy upbringing. My parents didn’t put pressure on me. They were loving and nurturing and to be honest I didn’t really know what ‘stress’ was until I left home. But I did carry the weight of climate change on my shoulders. And it has simply got worse as our carbon emissions continue to rise, more roads and runways are built and the rainforests are felled.
Finding my family and raising my children to be aware of the climate crisis
I met my new partner two years ago through environmental activism. Both musicians, we found a way to to use our skills and careers to sing and fight for change. This felt good. It felt natural also to incorporate the children into some of what we did. We took them on protests, taught them to climb trees, let them help in the package free store and sang fun songs.
But it quickly became apparent to me that this was a delicate subject which would have to be carefully considered and constantly monitored.
For starters their dad wasn’t at all happy about us involving them in our activism. It became a new point of contention that was being passed indirectly between us via the children. And quite aside from this I wanted to protect my children from some of the frightening truths the scientists are telling us. Kids their age are not ready to take this on yet in my opinion.
So, how to teach our children about their civil rights, their fragile future and equip them with the life skills they may need in the event of societal collapse without panicking them and taking away their innocent childhoods?
What steps have I taken to raise my children in the climate crisis?
I don’t have all the answers. But this is where I’ve got to: I’m still going out of my way to give them the childhood I would have liked them to have if the climate crisis didn’t exist. We sing, dance, go swimming, camping and rollerskating, travel via train to exciting places and they attend a regular local primary school.
I do NOT tell them about my fears of societal collapse, or even extinction (of humans). But simply focus on the positive things we can do to make things better. Including questioning some of the laws that threaten our future and our human rights.
I try as much as possible without preaching about it to live the life that I feel we all need to move towards. I sold the car and bought an electric tricycle – probably the most exciting thing I’ve ever bought! The kids love it and I highly recommend it. We no longer fly. My partner spends considerable amounts of his time up trees to stop them being felled. I address the crisis in all parts of my work and refuse (as I often did before) to avoid speaking about it as if it were a taboo subject.
We still eat some animal products but in small quantities and I’ve really stopped focusing on growth (monetarily or career wise). I’m trying simply to live more in the moment. This is not easy for me.
On top of this I don’t tell my children that I or their dad have the right answers. They are desperate to know who is telling the truth which is sad but I simply tell them they will have to decide for themselves in their own time. I don’t want them to feel they have to take sides.
Dress rehearsals and awareness for the future
I wish I could be raising my children without thinking about the climate crisis. But if there is one good thing that has come out of the covid pandemic it has been the proof to me that people can come together, they can look after each other and they can slow down and re-evaluate their lives. I can only hope that this has been a dress rehearsal for what is to come in the future. I’m not going to tell my children what to believe. But I do feel proud that whatever happens they will know I did do something.
I tried. And this is all any of us can do.
As well as being an environmental activist and mother Holly runs singing classes called Thula Mama for babies and toddlers where parents learn songs from around the world in easy to grasp harmonies. It is open to all and has frequently been described as “the best thing about parental leave!”
Do you want to share your story and be part of our #This Is Family blog series? We’d love to hear from you. We want to hear your story, your challenges and your triumphs so other parents in similar situations can learn, share and realise that they are not alone. Read more about #This Is Family and find out how you can get involved too.
Fast forward five years with many fails and two miscarriages, we were now with our fourth clinic… Inside I was more affected than I thought. I was still holding on to a lot of grief.
Trigger Warning: This blog contains sensitive topics that may be triggering for others. Please read with caution and any necessary discretion needed.
Lauren shares with us her journey towards parenthood, and how it eventually lead to receiving IVF treatment at 40. Her story was bumpy, and at times absolutely torrential. She mentions experiencing loss and displays the heartbreak that can occur when taking the road for IVF treatment.
According to The Fertility Foundation, millions of people find out they will need to undergo fertility treatment to start or extend their family every year. Many of those will receive little or no NHS funding for their fertility treatment. It becomes a tough road to take for some families. But it doesn’t deter many…
Growing up, I thought that life would be simple
I always assumed what a lot of us did -you get married and have two children. It’s simple, I would have a regular cookie-cutter family that would pretty much mirror my parents family dynamic.
I wish I was that naïve now and life was that simple!
My family’s story technically starts 12 years ago.
It was 2010, I was 30 years old, and I just got back from an amazing holiday to Las Vegas and Miami to celebrate my milestone birthday with my boyfriend Dan.
We had been together for 8.5 years. It was a good relationship.
But, two weeks after we got back from our trip, I walked in the door to find him. Only, he was gone.
He, very suddenly, died at aged 31 of a heart attack. It was a shock to my system, and for quite a while I was at a loss. Within just those few seconds my life changed. Everything I knew was sudden different. I didn’t know how I was going to carry on. Where do you go from there?
The world keeps moving after loss
I wasn’t sure it was going to be able to keep moving, keep going, but the world can and does. The world carried on turning, and so, despite needing my mourning period, I needed to carry on living.
Seventeen months passed after the incident, I found a new home in my flat. And cementing himself into my life, and into my family, was my current husband, Marc. We got married in 2014 and thoughts of starting a family together, having a baby, were very quickly on the table. I thought that it would happen for us without a worry.
We assumed it would happen immediately. But, no pregnancy. No baby. It couldn’t happen. But, undeterred, and determined however, we started IVF up two years later.
IVF under the age of 40…
Again, I was so naïve. I thought IVF worked straight away as everyone told me they know someone with an IVF baby!
I gave a leap of faith and, unfortunately, did very little research. We went on a recommendation and the consultant absolutely promised us she would get us pregnant!
We were so excited! Especially as she had absolutely promised.
So it really took us back when the first round failed. We were shocked we thought it was meant to work straight away.
I, once again, was needing to pick myself up and somehow find the strength to keep going. Giving up was never an option. One of my fears is the unknown so this made me so anxious as the whole IVF process was a huge unknown. But, I was determined to not give up. Despite the heartbreak, we were determined to have our family.
Trying IVF again at 40
Fast forward 5 years, many fails and two miscarriages, and we were with our 4th clinic.
My husband was so withdrawn and didn’t communicate as he found it all so hard. I on the other hand had tunnel vision and couldn’t think about anything else than to keep going.
Inside I was more affected than I thought and was still holding on to grief, grief of losing Dan and never dealing with loss, grief of all the failed cycles of IVF and fear of ever knowing if I was going to be a mum.
So, worn down and bracing for grief and loss, we tried IVF again at 40 years old. We had 3 eggs collected, 1 fertilised, waiting to find out if that 1 embryo was making it to 5 days. Honestly, it was like living on tenter hooks. We were as anxious as ever, and desperately pleading for it to work.
The phone finally rang. We were riddled with nerves, and as we anxiously answered it, we were given the brilliant news that it had worked! We had the transfer (which on a separate note, I hate as it’s so uncomfortable and you have no dignity whatsoever! I always made sure I had a pedicure. Not that they ever looked at my feet!) and before you knew it, we had a bun in the oven. Our Family was about to begin.
My name is not just Lauren but Mummy too!
Seven weeks later, many tears and fears later, and we finally (finally!) heard a heartbeat for the first time ever!
For my whole pregnancy I was petrified and so SO nervous that something was going to go wrong. Especially as you hear stories of pregnancies being more difficult over 40 years old, IVF or not! We had gone through so much loss before then, it was understandable that we had our backs up or assumed the worst could happen.
But now, here we are in the current day.
He is 11 months old, and is my miraculous, cheeky, funny boy.
What do I think about parenthood? Well, it’s bloody hard being a mum. My worry is constant and I’m always being kept on my toes.
But he was worth every needle, every tear and every sleepless night!
I am one of the lucky ones and I love that my name is not just Lauren. But Mummy too!
The Fertility Foundation
The Fertility Foundation is a UK fertility charity which aims to provide support and help to individuals and couples with advice, information and ultimately, practical assistance in accessing fertility treatment.
You can apply for a one-time financial fertility grant that will be considered by their trustees. From finding a sperm or an egg donor to the challenges of our outdated legal system surrounding surrogacy same-sex couples and individuals also struggle with the same challenges of infertility.
They run regular events to help spread awareness of infertility and raise money to offer these grants to those who may apply for them. Send them some support through this link.
Would you like to share YOUR story?
We’d love to hear from you. This Is Family is all about sharing family stories – especially from families who feel like their voices are not often heard. Every family has a unique story to tell. We’d love to hear yours. Find out how you can feature on our blog and get involved. So that other parents can feel less alone.
Our family isn’t an unusual set up – not these days anyway. I just don’t really know what to call us. I don’t know what box we fit in. But then, all families are made up of people, and people don’t really fit in boxes, do they?
Anna Halsall
Anna Halsall shares the story of her family. A family that doesn’t neatly fit into a box or a label. But one that is full of love. There’s been a lot to navigate for Anna and her family over the last few years. With co-parenting and Covid adding their own challenges. But they put themselves back together. Not in a perfect ‘box’ but in a “funny shaped box with the holes and the wobbles, which strangely now also seems unshakeable”. Here’s Anna’s story:
Kept apart by Covid
My 2 year old and I had Covid recently, just before my 11 year old went away on her first school residential trip. This meant she had an extended stay at her dad’s – so she didn’t catch it and could still go on the trip. The day before she left he brought her over for a doorstep visit – the most wonderful and heartbreaking 20 minutes ever. My daughter standing 2 metres away from our front step, her dad being grumpy and strictly pulling her back when she edged forwards in excitement; the children desperately wanting to hug each other; the 2 year old not understanding why his big sister – his idol – wasn’t allowed to come in and play with him. And all the time us smiling and chatting and wanting to make it all ok.
This is our family – We don’t fit neatly in a box
That’s our family. I’m not sure what to call us. We don’t seem to fit the term “blended”; we didn’t bring two families together, we brought a bunch of people together. There’s my daughter (now 11) and I, my new partner, and our baby (now 2). My daughter’s dad remains a fixture in her life – moving just a few miles down the road, and through custody cases and reduced maintenance payments, seeming to have a bit too much control over how we live. Yes, I am angry about that. And I work hard with him to co-parent our daughter well.
Family and emotions aren’t simple – holding two apparently contradictory things simultaneously seems to be par for the course.
I don’t know what box we fit in
Our family isn’t an unusual set up – not these days anyway. I just don’t really know what to call us. I don’t know what box we fit in. But then, all families are made up of people, and people don’t really fit in boxes, do they? So we’ve made our own box. It may have a few holes in it, and be a bit wobbly sometimes, but this box – our family – is the support system we all need and rely on.
Motherhood hit me like a tonne of bricks
And from all the mums I know, all the IG posts I’ve seen, books I’ve read, I know I’m not alone in that. I wasn’t prepared (who is? Can you ever be?), and my pre-existing anxiety got a steroid boost from the demands, expectations, loneliness, and uncertainty of motherhood in our ‘modern’ society. And yet motherhood (again, as for so many others) has been my gateway to a more full version of myself – dare I say it, it’s been my gateway from girlhood to womanhood.
I’ve had to dig deep to understand where my anxiety and depression comes from, learn tools to manage them, I’ve started to use my voice, set boundaries, and begun to realise that I have value in myself aside from what I do for others. It’s a work in progress, and probably always will be. Yet without becoming a mother, without my family, I wouldn’t be able to travel this terrain.
And then there was lockdown
And of course there was lockdown – which arrived just as I was recovering from my second bout of post-natal depression and starting a new career as my son turned one. I was suddenly right back in the thick of it, homeschooling a nine year old and caring for a toddler in a tiny flat, coming to the climax of that acrimonious custody case, and navigating two more miscarriages.
Putting our family back together
So what’s my point here? That motherhood blew me wide open. Like many families, the last couple of years have been carnage for us. Yet as I’ve put myself back together, our family has put itself together too. Creating that funny shaped box with the holes and the wobbles, which strangely now also seems unshakeable. We’ve got more challenges to face – more mediation over child-residence arrangements, sorting finances, moving house, working through the heartache of how we complete our family. We probably all want to kill each other at least once a day.
Yet my family fill my heart. They remind me of who I am, and I love them fiercely so they know that for themselves too. We’re a wobbly yet unshakeable box of very human people, where it may be challenging, but everyone is welcome. I wish one of those for your family too – whatever it looks like.
If you are a parents who needs support or someone to talk to you can contact PANDAS, who have a free helpline, email support, support groups and can support you in so many ways.
Mums are never alone but can feel so terribly lonely. It’s one of the paradoxes of parenting. And right now mums are lonelier than ever before.
It takes a village…
They say it takes a village to raise a child, and we really believe in this. But what do you do if your family and friends are far away? What if you haven’t yet found your tribe? You might have been to baby classes and toddler groups but still haven’t found those people that can be your village. It can leave you can feeling so very lonely.
Loneliness for new mums has got worse during the pandemic
According to aBBC report in November 2020, 63% of parents of young children said that they felt lonely, compared to 38% before the pandemic. Lockdown and the restrictions placed on new parents certainly took their toll. Parents were separated from family and friends and left without support and childcare. They were not able to go to baby or toddler classes, breastfeeding support groups or see their health visitor face to face. Lockdown certainly made loneliness a much bigger issue for new parents. And the impact of that might be greater than we think.
New mums are lonelier now than ever before…
We asked mums whether they were lonely. Here’s what they said:
“Even now, our daughter is 13 months old, I still feel alone. The evenings are the worst for me as I always have an ear open to listen out for my daughter. Just recently I’ve had a spell of insomnia to add to it all. I love my daughter to bits and am so thankful she is a happy and healthy baby, but it is hard!”
“Very lonely indeed. No baby groups during lockdowns to meet other mums and share the experience with… Parents who live in another country and a partner who was working in his office during the whole pandemic as he physically needed to be there due to the nature of his work meant that I was completely on my own for the best part of a year.”
Baby and toddler classes definitely help ease loneliness
Getting out and meeting other mums – at baby or toddler classes or groups makes a huge difference. And hopefully things will change now covid restrictions are all lifted.
One mum said:
“Yesterday I felt like this as I didn’t see any adults and had a very screamy baby! Today I’ve had a very different day (baby group then walk with friends) and feel like a part of something.”
This is the very reason we set up Happity. To connect parents through baby and toddler classes. So they can break up their days and find their tribe. It’s at the very core of what we do.
If you feel lonely please know – you are not alone. It’s something so many new mums and dads feel. It can seem like all the other mums and dads have got this whole parenting gig sorted and are doing just fine and you’re the only one struggling. That’s very much NOT the case.
Yes – it can be lonely and isolating as a new mum. But you’re not the only one feeling this way.
Meet other parents at baby & toddler classes
One of the best ways to meet other parents is at baby and toddler classes. If you’re shy or have social anxiety then just know you’re stepping into a safe pace with lots of other parents who might feel the same.
Lonely? – Get out and find your tribe!
We’e also put together a huge Find Your Tribe directory of places where you can meet other parents – whether that’s online or face to face.
It takes a village to raise a child but it also takes a village to raise a mum!
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