I went on maternity leave at a career high, having just celebrated the publication of my first legal book The Deprivation of Liberty of Children and Young People, co-authored with my colleague and friend, Pippa Pudney. What followed was a flurry of emails from solicitors and clerks, asking me to undertake work in this area, just weeks before I was due to go on leave.

Although incredibly grateful for the interest in our work, I couldn’t shake the anxiety that came with stepping back at such a big moment in my career. I worried that by turning down instructions or being unavailable, I might lose momentum. Still, I made the decision to switch on my out-of-office a month before my due date, planning to return around seven months later.

Many women at the Bar have shared stories with me of working right up to, and even past their due dates, before returning to full-time practice just weeks after. That has long seemed to be the ‘done thing’, but it was never what wanted for myself and my little boy. First and foremost, I want to be as present a mum as I possibly can to my son.

Fortunately, my head of chambers, Jacqui Thomas KC, reassured me: return when you’re ready and spend as many precious months at home with your baby as you want (and can financially afford) – your career will be waiting. That guidance was invaluable, and it meant a lot. I took it on board and soaked in every moment I could with my son in those first few months. I also used some of my time off to think about how I wanted my practice to look when I returned. I spoke with my clerks, and we mapped out a phased return with me working part-time hours on a fully remote basis, starting with just one remote hearing a week. It meant my partner and I could juggle work and childcare responsibilities between us, so that our son could remain at home with one of us always present, in the hope neither of us would get overwhelmed.

I’ve slowly returned to practice over the past few months, working just one day a week to begin with and increasing this to two, and despite my earlier fears, I’ve been welcomed back with open arms. This has been helped by my clerks making sure that the solicitors who regularly instructed me knew I was back, and by chambers updating my profile and publishing a news article on our website with the details of my return. I suspect some of my solicitor clients didn’t even realise I’d been away to begin with.

Despite the early weeks feeling like a gentle ease back into things, I soon realised that life as a working mother is more demanding than I expected. I have a newfound respect and awe for the women around me who appear to juggle it all so seamlessly. The sleep deprivation is relentless, and balancing those sleepless nights with the mental demands of hearings and deadlines has been tough. I’d hoped that sticking to set working days would provide balance, but court listings don’t always accommodate that plan. Return hearings are often scheduled on my non-working days, and so I’ve started shifting my availability to make sure I stay visible and answering emails and calls on my days off, despite being adamant I wouldn’t. If I’m honest, I think that is, in part, driven by a fear that I won’t receive repeat instructions if I’m not flexible enough, which may be imposter syndrome creeping in.

One of the harder pills to swallow has been seeing peers at a similar level of call advance where I haven’t. Right now, I’m not able to attend networking events or accept every brief that comes my way. I’m not giving talks or seminars or doing the kind of visible work that helps keep my name out there. I’ve also had little time to promote the book I co-authored. While I know this phase won’t last forever, there’s no denying the professional impact of stepping back, even temporarily.

Still, I’m learning to accept that this is my ‘mum era’, and that my ‘work era’ will return in time. I’m trying to lean into the slower pace of this season, trusting that my career will evolve to match. Wanting both a family and a career at the Bar should be attainable in 2025, without having to make impossible sacrifices. I’m trying to find a way to make it work with a fair amount of juggling. I’m writing this article with my baby asleep in my arms, after wrapping up a remote hearing at noon. Working remotely, while it has its own challenges, has allowed me to spend most of this week with my son. It has also given me the flexibility to continue breastfeeding, something I recognise as a real privilege in a society where many mums must return to in-person work far sooner than they’d like.

I’m aware of how fortunate I am to practise in an area of law that enables some flexibility, with remote hearings still regularly taking place in the Court of Protection and National Deprivation of Liberty for Children List. I’m also fortunate to be part of a forward-thinking, supportive set that have got maternity and flexible working policies in place, as well as policies for pregnancy loss and the menopause. It also helps that so many of my colleagues and clerking team are women who lead by example, lift each other up, and support one another.

One of the most appreciated aspects of my return has been the support of colleagues who’ve generously shared their time and knowledge with me. I’ve felt able to ask questions, whether it’s checking I haven’t missed a new order template or a key judgment during my time away. That help has made all the difference, and it has reminded me that this profession doesn’t have to be isolating.

For those reading this article who are wishing to start a family in this profession, I would encourage you to trust your instincts and not to settle for ‘how things have always been’. This profession can and should make space for your priorities to change, without making you choose between parenthood and your career.

We hear a lot of talk about retention at the Bar, but I think we also need to talk about how we welcome people back in. If we want to keep talented practitioners who also happen to be parents, we need to make the return to work sustainable. That’s only achievable with support from others. They say it takes a village, and that village has to exist within our profession too. For some, that may mean leaning on chambers and colleagues for support, working reduced hours, working remotely if that’s possible in your field, or even taking a new route entirely – such as moving into a different area of law that offers greater flexibility, perhaps one with more paper-based work and fewer court commitments. At the end of the day, this is about making it work for you. I’m slowly learning to adapt, on my own terms, with my little one by my side.