'Pops 2021' - My Dad, holding my son close, around June 2021. I was in East London MBU with Postpartum Psychosis, severe anxiety and depression. At times, my Dad wasn't allowed in due to Covid restrictions. I remember one time, seeing him standing in the rain outside, through the grated window of the family room. My parents and partner were my lifeline. My son and I are safe and happy. I'm so blessed to have a wonderful family and partner ❤️

'Shared heartbeats in a silent sanctuary' - This photo was taken just a few days after giving birth to my first baby at home. I was in shock at how fast he arrived and the fact I was able to give birth the way I did; undisturbed and uninterrupted on the living room floor. It was the spark that led me on this path of supporting mothers through pregnancy, birth and beyond. I was so exhausted but didn’t want to miss a thing. I was riddled with anxiety and the worry of not seeing my brand new baby or taking care of him made it very hard to rest. This photo (captured by my husband) of my son and I snoozing together is a reminder of that tender and delicate time and a remembering that women are so capable but we need to look after mothers so they can take care of the babes.

'The first cuddle' - Our little boy spent the first couple of weeks of his life in NICU which was a hard time for our family. As other parents were taking their babies home to enjoy the newborn bubble we were watching our little boy on a ventilator, being tube fed and not being able to hold him. This photo is the first time I properly held him and it holds so many emotions of the moment - relief that he was still with us, absolute exhaustion from everything we were feeling, and the fear that this could be our last photo together. I can see the weight of everything on my face and the tissue in my top is a reminder of how much I cried during that period. I want to go back and give myself a massive hug in this moment and let me know that everything will be okay and he’ll be home soon.

'Congratulations on the arrival of your little one' - I could not move for well wishes. Sentiments that floated on clouds or accompanied images of baby elephants trunk in trunk with their mother. We ran out of flat surfaces and so resorted to hanging them from string. In this image, I am grappling with the reality that I am depressed. I am desperate to speak to someone about how sad I am, but could not begin to even imagine doing this when everyone is so happy for me. I had never felt so connected or so alone. So uplifted and isolated. This can wait. I make a list, return their wishes with a thank you postcard emblazoned with a photo of our smiling family.

'Love comes'. This is a photo of me and my baby daughter, Nell, who was born right in the middle of the Covid-19 pandemic in May 2020. My partner captured this moment and sent it to me because he thought it was beautiful. If I didn’t know that the woman in the photo was ill, I would think so too. It's a raw snapshot of a tired mam holding and loving her tiny baby. But I do know her, and I can see the abject terror in her eyes. At the time, I was suffering with severe perinatal OCD and depression. I couldn’t pass through a moment without a million terrifying intrusive thoughts entering my mind. I thought I would never feel anything but terror and confusion when I held her, certainly not love. With the support of my amazing family and NHS perinatal mental health services, I was able to heal and build a truly special bond with my daughter, one that feels even more solid and pure because of what we went through together. Now, when I look at this photo, I feel proud. Despite how addled my brain was, I still managed to grow, care for, and hold that baby so close. That takes huge strength. I am strong. I know that now. I never thought the love would come. But it did. It was always there.

'First hold. Motherhood in Neonatal Intensive Care' - This photo still breaks my heart to this day - but it means everything to me. It was the first time I held my son, Samuel. He was 6 days old and still needing breathing support because of his premature birth at 29 weeks gestation. I was terrified. All I wanted to do was to hold him close to my chest and to kiss him on his forehead. But I couldn’t. The lines, wires and breathing tubes were a barrier. This was the start of my motherhood. This photo still breaks my heart. But it means everything to me. It was the picture used to power a parent led campaign that bought about new parental leave entitlements (Neonatal Leave and Pay) so that parents can be with their baby or babies in neonatal intensive care without the worry of work or pay. From the heart break came hope. I love this photo.

'Broken' – Days after this photo I was admitted to a mother and baby unit on 20th December 2019. I had severe postnatal OCD and I can see the torture behind my eyes in this photo. It never gets easier to look at it but I do think it's quite powerful in showing what I was going through. I made a full recovery and got fantastic care at the Rainbow Unit in Chelmsford. I will never forget the nurses who cared for me during such a difficult time. Thank you NHS!

'An extra layer of sick!' – The first time I’d properly laughed after having my baby. I was admitted into a mother and baby unit and forgot how to laugh or smile. I’m so glad the staff captured this! It was the first time I didn’t cry when my child had been sick too! She was a month old.

'Between the shadow and the light' - For parents who carry medical trauma from their first birth, meeting baby number two is complicated. Instead of pure happiness, there is dread, hypervigilance, and the weight of memory. This is also motherhood where it’s not just about new beginnings but about carrying both the love and the shadows together.

'The days turned into months' - My 5 months old daughter was taken away when her mum, my wife was taken as an inpatient to the Mother and Baby Unit. Leaving me visiting only at the weekend. I missed months of my daughter. Fatherhood was straight forward and I was left behind.

'Healing with help' - This is a selection of pictures I took whilst I was an inpatient at The Beeches, a mother and baby unit in Derby. I was admitted after my mental health deteriorated when Ottilie was 4 months old and I became suicidal. Ottilie came with me and the support I received was phenomenal. They helped me to see that I was a good mum and my babies needed me to stay. I was given much needed time to myself where I could enjoy a snack and watch my favourite shows, I had support in getting Ottie to sleep separately from me which was something that had massively impacted my mental health and I also learned to knit which I’ve always wanted to do!

'But will the dog know I still love her?' – Our golden retriever, Stella, was my first baby. During my first pregnancy, I would stare at her and find myself crying over how much her world was going to change. I love this picture because I feel like she’s telling me it’s all going to be ok.

'Is this worth it?' - I suffered with hyperemesis gravidarum in both of my pregnancies. I’m not sure I will ever find the words to describe just how unwell I felt. It’s not what you imagine pregnancy will be like and I questioned daily whether having a baby was worth going through this.

'Content finally' - After a painful, difficult start to breastfeeding, this photo was taken after we finally cracked the technique!

'24+2 / two days old' – This is what being a mother meant to me: reading to my daughter by her incubator; whispering messages of love and hope and stories of our future; placing a finger in her hand; giving her cotton buds dipped in my milk; tuning in to every beep and monitor; nappy changes through the portholes; a two week wait for skin to skin cuddles; and leaving my heart in NICU every night until we brought her home. It was not the start that I pictured, but it is mine.

'First Ofuro (Bath)' - This photo is from our first trip to Japan, where my mother's family is from, following the birth of my eldest daughter. We took a bath together - there is a deep cultural importance associated with bathing, and sharing baths with family in particular in Japan. I was pleased to be able to share this part of my culture with her, although I was very nervous she would do a poo whilst in it!

'Lockdown baby' – The first week my wife returned to work after a lockdown birth; hormones, colic, isolation, exhaustion.

'A mother’s love, stillborn but still born' – I’m using a voice not many have. This photo is of me and my first daughter, Violet, when she was born. The most heartbreaking day of my life, and the day I realised you could have heartbreak and love together. A day when my world and motherhood was shattered. The pain will never leave but it’s a reminder that my love still grows for her, she may have been ‘stillborn’ but she was ‘still born’. I use my voice every day to advocate for other mothers and families and she is my reminder that I do this all in her legacy and name.

'First snuggle with two' - This is the first snuggle with both my girls. I still get emotional at this photo because I still remember the overwhelming feeling of love!

'Early mornings on the edge' – I took this photo in the early days after a morning feed. It was how I spent most of my days - top half up, milk spilling through my breast pads. Dishevelled, tired and hungry. Beautiful, but chaotic all in one image.

'My first night in a mother and baby unit' – I took this photo on the first day I was admitted to my local mother and baby unit. It had been a full-on day with seeing all the different doctors, psychiatrists and nursery nurses and then it was time to retreat to our rooms. Everything was quiet, and the reality of my situation sunk in. My little girl was finally asleep on my chest and I felt like I had the whole weight of the world on my shoulders. Little did I know that first night would lead to much uture happiness!

'They say that it takes a village to raise a child, but we’re cut off from the village' – I had my first child in June 2020, during the UK's first Covid-19 lockdown. This self-portrait was taken in Liverpool, where we'd been living for nearly two years. We felt far from family support, and I was struggling with early motherhood. It definitely wasn't how I thought it'd be, and I felt very lonely. Less than a week later we decided to move to Birmingham to be closer to my family. My photography has always been therapeutic for me, but it became an important anchor during early motherhood as it allowed me to vent my feelings and frustrations, as well as document my life.

'Multitasking mama' – This was me as a brand new mum of two and I think it perfectly sums up the challenges of being a mum of a three year old who wants to do my hair whilst feeding my little boy (rugby ball hold came in so handy second time round!). My husband took it and I love it.

'Wearing the mask well?' - This was a photo taken after I delivered a talk when my baby was a week old. I was convinced I was wearing my mask well at the time convincing everyone I was ‘fine’ but when I look at this photo now I look desperately unhappy and therefore maybe I didn’t wear the mask as well as I thought I did, or this was caught in a second where I’d let the mask slip!

'Tripped up mama' - Feeding 3 at once was probably the hardest things about looking after triplet babies. I’d get anxious every time a feed time was approaching. I was doing 24 feeds every 24 hours. The pressure to breastfeed was huge. I combi-fed. If I could get someone to help with a feed, I’d breastfeed one and whoever was helping me would bottle feed the other two. But when I was on my own, they mostly all had formula. I felt huge mum guilt for this, especially when they were so underweight. When I look at this photo, I see a mum who is so very tired but doing her best.

Megan McCabe, 'Family team call with the boys' – This is a screenshot of one of my FaceTime calls with my baby, partner and brother during Covid after I was sectioned with postpartum psychosis and separated from my baby and family. Leaving my partner and family to look after my baby while I got better. My hallucinations and delusions made me think everyone in my family, including my baby and everyone I knew had died. Covid visiting restrictions fed in to these beliefs as face to face visits were limited. These FaceTime calls would sometimes be confusing for me, but sometimes gave me the reassurance I needed that my baby was still alive and safe and so was my family, and that I was going to get better.

'Crisis' – Desperately trying to bond with our very poorly NICU baby, born HIE during Covid with masks and restrictions. Trying to smile but feeling in utter crisis and agony at only being allowed to spend 5 hours a day with my first born baby.

'Mothering my Mum and becoming a Mum' - After an unplanned emergency C-section. Then having my baby taken away to the Neonatal Unit for respiratory and infection care support. I was in pain from the delivery, broken and incredibly lonely (apart from my husband who I encouraged to go home at night to be the best physically/mentally during day visits - I had nobody else). My Mother was going through Mental Health crisis and sectioned under the Mental Health Act (I was advocating for my Mum's care whilst I was also very vulnerable). From pregnancy to after giving birth. A lot of unknowns with how I would recover, would I become mentally unwell, what is happening to my baby and will my baby die (in the operating theatre room after delivery).

'Why is mummy crying again?' - I had no idea I was in the depths of post natal depression, it was so much more than baby blues. In this photo the husband has made one of my favourite meals in an effort to try get me to eat something - but I had zero appetite and also no idea that this was a symptom of PND. I had two bites and fed our 3 week old daughter while, trying so hard to hold back the tears while our older two kids asked ‘Daddy, why is mummy crying again’ This was the starting point of me getting help - 5 weeks later I’ve made so much progress and starting to feel like me. I know things will get better.

'Purgatory' – Baby is a week old and I’m wondering if this will ever end? Will I ever sleep again? Will I die from no sleep? Am I actually alive? Is he breathing? I’m crying because he’s so perfect and I’m crying because this is so hard. It’s so raw and so numb and so wide open.

'Breastfeeding chronicles' – This was the moment my daughter was able to latch on and feed without a nipple shield. She was 3 months old here had been dropping so much weight soon after birth. I felt such pressure from health visitors to add formula to her diet (even though she had physically rejected formula). How much she fed was on my mind: did she have enough? Why can't I pump enough? Is she still hungry? The thoughts went on and on and on. It was such a worry. In this picture, she just popped on the breast and FED. It all just clicked - the latch, the position, everything. And we had a little chat after (well, she gurgled and smiled and I chatted away), it was music to my ears. IT WAS PHENOMENAL.

'I will try and fix you' – My son was a few days old. I was struggling to breastfeed him. I bought a pump and I couldn't produce enough. The health visitors showed me various latching techniques and still it wouldn't come or he wouldn't take. He was losing weight at a fast rate and was hungry. I was struggling. I couldn't feed him and everyone was pressurising me to breastfeed. I felt inadequate. I didn't feel like a mum. I didn't want to be his mum because he deserved better. This photo is of me massaging and soothing him under the warmth of the sun with music in the background. I was singing to him with tears in my eyes. The song was Fix you by Coldplay. Each time I hear that song, I can't help but get upset. If my son is near me while this song is on, I go to him and hug him or kiss his head. He's 10 years old now and I love being his mum.

'When the world saw one thing - I felt another!' - On this day, I was struggling with the most debilitating depression — a result of perinatal OCD after the traumatic birth of my third child. One photo shows the raw truth of how I felt: exhausted, broken, and far from the image of ‘happy motherhood’ I thought I should be living. On the very same day, I took another picture with my baby, added a filter, and posted it to social media. Smiling, polished, and ‘fine’. This is what so many of us do — hiding the pain, fear, and chaos behind carefully chosen images. But the reality was that I was suffering. Motherhood is complex, messy, and sometimes incredibly dark. By sharing this moment, I hope others know they’re not alone in their hidden struggles. This is also motherhood.

'Multiple versions of truth' - This photo shows a postpartum mother feeding her newborn infant, and it all looks magical. But this mother was in a mental health crisis, experiencing anxiety so severe she was experiencing visual and auditory hallucinations, regularly experiencing suicidal and intrusive thoughts, but on the surface it all looked good. She was breastfeeding confidently after trauma and grief relating to her firstborn feeding journey and had experienced amazing birth, things looked good on paper but she was in a very dark and lonely place.

'Peace in the waves' - I struggled from almost day 1 of my pregnancy with Hyperemesis Gravidarum and prenatal depression. This moment with my friend taking the image was one of the only happy memories I have from the pregnancy. It was such an agonising time and I considered taking my own life at one point it was just so bad. I couldn’t show up for my first child, work, my husband or friends. There were days I could barely move only to be sick. Feeling the waves crashing around me, laughing and enjoying my bump and baby for an hour to take these photos was just pure medicine for the soul. I look at these images now and see such strength. Women are truly incredible.

'In the midst of all the depression admiring my daughter' – I experienced postpartum pyschosis, this photo makes me feel proud of how far I have come today. It is beautiful but also sad.

'The house is quiet, my heart is full' – 2 day old baby breastfeeding in bed sleepily while dad sleeps next to him and mum watches on.

'One step at a time' - I took this photo to mark a moment in time, a moment where I knew I had to fight like never before; to get my 'light' back. This was my drip to help my liver and kidneys following taking an overdose back in Oct 2022 after developing server postnatal depression from our first baby, our beautiful boy, Harlan. Never in a million years did I think something like this could happen or would happen when I became a mother.

'In tandem' – This is a photo of me tandem nursing my daughters, one is just days old and the other is 2 years old. I never planned to tandem nurse, but it was just how our story unfolded and I’m so grateful.

'Failing' - My second born, a few days old and his sister just turned one. Two babies and although being a mum is the thing I've wanted most in the world, I don't understand why I'm so bad at it. Can't breastfeed, can't stay calm, I don't have it all together, the house is a mess, I am a mess. It hasn't felt like it came naturally like the world told me it would. Love and sadness, that would eventually just be sadness and wanting to no longer be here. I had no idea what was happening to me, I knew nothing about perinatal mental health. That lack of knowing almost killed me, that blame and shame I felt almost left my babies without a mum. But gradual healing came, thanks to a husband who never gave up on trying to find answers and help. Recovery is possible and although I'm still mad to have lost so much time to mental illness, I'm more determined than ever to show that mental health is also motherhood and is nothing to be ashamed of.

For too long, the images and stories we see about motherhood and parenthood have been incomplete. They present a narrow idea of perfection, creating impossible expectations and leaving many parents feeling like they’re failing, before they’ve even begun.