Image description: A humorous stick-figure comic shows a blonde woman sitting cross-legged in a meditation pose with a peaceful expression. Around her, several chaotic scenes unfold: on the left, a small child spills water; another child holds a teddy bear and repeatedly calls “Mom? Mom? Mom?”; a colleague stands next to her holding a stack of papers saying “I need this proofread”; and on the right, a lab partner casually remarks that they shredded “a big stack of data” while a small fire flares up in the laboratory equipment behind them. Despite all this, the woman remains serene. The caption reads, “Being an #AcademicParent requires a level of inner peace that a Zen master would kill for.”
This series amplifies the lived experiences of student-mothers to demystify motherhood in graduate school, support informed family-planning decisions, and build a sense of community and visibility for women navigating academia while raising children. This first post is an invitation for student-mothers to engage in the initiative.
For many of us, graduate school is a time defined by uncertainty, discovery, and growth. We juggle research questions, deadlines, teaching responsibilities, and the inevitable late-night existential crises that come with the territory. But for some graduate students, these challenges take on a different dimension altogether. Their experiences are often invisible, rarely discussed, and even less often centered. And yet, they exist in our classrooms, our labs, our writing groups, our campuses.
This post marks the beginning of a new Gradifying series dedicated to those voices - Scholar Moms: Chronicles from Graduate School.
Over the past few years, I’ve become increasingly aware of how little space there is for conversations about motherhood in academia, especially at the graduate level. Student-mothers carry an immense mental, emotional, and logistical load. While their journeys are marked by resilience and creativity, they are also shaped by barriers many of us never see. Some navigate pregnancy while writing their proposals. Others balance breastfeeding schedules with conference presentations. Many return to their programs after giving birth, trying to reconcile recovery, childcare, and academic expectations with very little structural support.
These stories matter not only because they deserve visibility, but because they can guide others. Modern women already face a complicated, deeply personal dilemma: if and when to have children. For graduate students, this conundrum becomes even more challenging. Should they wait until after their degree, possibly entering parenthood later than they planned? Should they start a family during their studies, knowing the demands, funding timelines, and uncertainties of academic life? What support exists? What sacrifices are inevitable? What moments of joy make it worthwhile? These are questions many women carry quietly – and often alone.
By sharing lived experiences from student-mothers, this series aims to help others make informed, compassionate decisions for themselves. Not by prescribing a “right” time, but by making visible the realities that shape these choices. My goal is to create a space where women who became parents during their graduate studies can share their experiences in their own words. I want to highlight not only the challenges (because they are real and often heavy) but also the strategies, moments of joy, forms of support, and unexpected lessons that come with mothering in academia. By amplifying a variety of perspectives, I hope this project can offer visibility, connection, and community to current and future student-mothers, and help the broader graduate community understand what it truly means to balance a research degree with raising a child.
This is also an invitation. If you are a mother who experienced pregnancy or parenting during your master’s or PhD, whether at Queen’s or elsewhere, I would love to hear from you. Your story matters. Whether your journey felt empowering, overwhelming, complicated, or something in between, your perspective can illuminate the path for others who are trying to imagine their future. Participation can take whatever form feels comfortable for you: a conversation, a written reflection, or an interview. You can share as much or as little as you’d like. Your anonymity will always be respected if preferred.
If you’re curious, interested, or even just considering volunteering your experiences and or resources, I encourage you to reach out and connect with me through the Ӱֱ Address Book on Outlook.