This month on the family farm: 'We may be missing the animals or tractors, but more importantly we are investing in our children'

Lowlands farm, in southwest Birmingham, is home to Beth Withers and her husband, Tom. Here, she talks about bringing up her growing family at Lowlands, and the balance between motherhood and farming.

The end of January was exciting for us as the Farmers Guardian featured a Farm Profile article on our farm.

It was lovely to be recognised, have some photos taken and get to share our farming story from field to fork, but I was quoted saying You see a lot of female farmers on social media at a certain stage in their life, but when you get to this place youre not really a farmer any more as youre not actively helping and you feel a bit forgotten, and I had so many people reach out to me about this that this month I wanted to talk about it a bit more.

In the pre-family days it was relatively simple. We could come and go as we pleased and spend all weekend together sorting the sheep if required. It was a time when, without realising, farming was fairly easy to juggle - even as a novice learning the trade. We would sit with our flask on our break and discuss the future. Well, that future is now our present, of course, and looking back, what we discussed was rather unrealistic. We never focussed on the ins and outs, who would be responsible for what and what the actual arrival of a child would mean for our day-to-day life.

For me, the feeling of being forgotten started to creep in before I had even had my first child. I was pregnant during lambing - our busiest time of year and one of my favourite times of year.

I think lambing is what made me fall in love with the industry. Seeing them born and then nurturing them as they grow and, taking pride in their welfare to ultimately deliver a fantastic end product is certainly something to shout about.

And, there does not seem to be a lot of information about being pregnant and being around pregnant animals, just basically do not do it. I asked around and even the midwife was not really sure what the risks were, so we made the decision that we just would not take the risk.

I did not go near the pregnant sheep, I did not go in the poly tunnel and my husband washed his hands, washed his own clothes and got changed before coming back into the house when he had been in contact with any pregnant ewes or lambs. It was amazing to be growing this little person inside me, but at the same time there were definitely times when it felt totally isolating and disheartening.

Listening to the stories of what was happening in some ways made me smile and feel involved, but in others it made me more sad thinking about missing out.

Our first child arrived healthy, and we could not have asked for more. Immediately after birth, I struggled being inside so much, but I really tried to make sure I gave my body enough time to re-cooperate. And so began the next stage of loneliness.

My first child was born in the summer, bailing and harvesting time. It meant that although my husband supported me as much as possible, things needed to be done in a timely manner. We managed to get a routine in place where he would help out so I could get some rest, and a shower and so on, but I cannot deny that I would always be sat wondering. What is he doing today? How is it going? I wanted to help out in some way or somehow just to be involved. I gradually started to get out more, and we went to the field for picnics and would go to just sit on the hay trailer for a couple of hours to watch them work.

As time went on things got back to normal, and the little one went to childcare which meant I could get fully involved again and return to work.

But since then, we have had two more children. Two more pregnancies and two more lambing seasons missed; two more recuperating months although this time, with a few toddlers thrown in the mix.

So where are we now? Well, I have a 3-year-old, 2-year-old and a 5-month-old, and things are pretty busy. Having practice from the first two means I am much better at preparing for going out and about on the farm and understanding how to keep them happy. And the rules are having the right gear, right snacks, lots of fun and if all that fails, just call it quits.

It is lovely to take them all around the yard and we often sit in the straw bale shed to watch the tractors going back and forward. We wander around the cow sheds and they help me collect the eggs so we are certainly involved, so why do I feel forgotten?

For me it is the fact that I, myself, am not actually involved in the farming. To go sheep scanning with one toddler is manageable, but with two and a newborn, I am not able to give either the children or the sheep my full focus. When it is just us doing jobs, it is not so bad, but when other people come to help, I do not like to hold them up in anyway.

I find the weather is also a big factor. They ultimately get cold and fed up at this time of year, and I do not want to put them off being outdoors by forcing them to stand in the wind and rain. Someone has to take them inside, and in our family that someone is me. Yes, we could swap, and sometimes we do, but for us the traditional way just works. My husband is foremost the farmer, so he is better placed to look after the livestock, and being young, the children, especially the newest addition, they naturally gravitate towards myself.

As they get older it will get easier for us to manage and I cannot wait to get more involved again. This year my win is to be able to help with lambing but to also start teaching my eldest boys how it all works.

If you are feeling a bit forgotten, make sure you reach out and talk to others - clearly, I was not alone in how I felt. We may be missing the animals or tractors, but importantly we are investing in our children. We are building strong foundations for the future and hopefully we will have a few future farmers that will continue in this industry when they grow up.