Three Kids, One PhD and the Pandemic:

the relentless pursuit of a dream – by Kathreine Babu

Managing just motherhood or a PhD might have been easier. But giving up on either was never an option. Motherhood chose me; the PhD was my choice. I didn’t want to one day tell my children I gave up because of them. I wanted to show them that dreams don’t end with motherhood—they evolve.

Commitment to both family and academia shaped my journey. I am especially grateful to my husband for his support and to my parents, who instilled in me resilience and a love for learning.

I never imagined doing linguistics. I came from the science stream but also loved the arts. After STPM, I clicked “Linguistics” on my university application without really knowing what it meant. That random choice shaped everything after—broadening my worldview, sharpening my thinking, and reconnecting me with my heritage language, Telugu, which became my PhD focus.

By the second year of my Bachelor’s, I wanted to become a lecturer at Universiti Malaya (UM), a path where a PhD was essential. That vision stayed with me, even when life took unexpected turns. This decision, made over a decade ago, feels surreal now as I stand as a language lecturer and PhD holder.

After completing my Master’s in Linguistics in 2016, I got engaged. I aspired to do my PhD abroad, with interest from Cambridge and UNSW, but the funding did not come through. With aging parents and a new chapter ahead, I chose to begin my PhD at UM in 2018 under the kind guidance of Associate Professor Dr. Patricia Nora Riget. To my surprise, I was also offered a teaching position at the same faculty.

Balancing teaching and research wasn’t new to me—I had done it during my Master’s. But this time, it was more intense. I thought I was mentally prepared, but I was not. In 2019, life threw curveballs: my father, wheelchair-bound for years, was diagnosed with Stage 4 Non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma, and my mother—his main caregiver—was seriously injured in a dog attack that left her unable to walk for a month. Both parents moved in with me, and amidst that chaos, I found out that I was pregnant with my first child.

It sounds unbelievable, but I had all three of my children during my PhD. My son, the third child, was born the same year I graduated. My first pregnancy was especially tough—with severe nausea and exhaustion, often leaving me feeling unproductive. I slowed my research but continued teaching. I used to be rigid and goal-driven, but those nine months softened me, teaching me that productivity can take many forms.

Then came the pandemic. As first-time parents during the global lockdown, my husband and I found handling a newborn particularly overwhelming, navigating movement restrictions and strict safety protocols. Yet, this challenging period drew us closer as a family. I was determined to fully breastfeed, despite significant pain and fatigue, while juggling thesis deadlines and endless diapers. Thankfully, our nearby families provided invaluable support, especially my mother—a testament to her strength and love.

A year and a half later, I was pregnant again. Thankfully, I had a two-year study leave. My husband and I carefully planned each stage. Most days, we would drop off our eldest at my mother’s house. I would then head upstairs to my old bedroom—my makeshift research corner—and spend hours immersed in my thesis. It was an unglamorous, unromantic academic process—but it was real, and it was mine.

When our second child was born, I took about two months ‘off’ before returning to my research. Things were easier this time—we were more experienced parents—but the exhaustion continued as we juggled childcare, work, and my thesis. By December 2022, we found a good helper and enrolled our eldest in school. This gave us space to settle into a better rhythm, allowing me to continue writing.

In 2023, my husband and I settled into a quiet routine that became my final academic stretch. Every morning, we would head to the Council of Churches of Malaysia (CCM), where my husband had started working after his business slowed during the pandemic. It was a blessing—both in terms of financial stability and personal fulfillment. He found immense joy in his work there, and I found a warm, quiet corner at the Bread of Life Café nestled within the CCM compound. While he worked, I wrote—my own kind of academic gestation. Day after day, I sat in the same corner, coffee beside me, reshaping chapters, refining arguments, and pushing the thesis closer to the finish line.

By September before my study leave ended, I submitted everything. As I exhaled with relief, I found out that I was pregnant again. This final pregnancy was more manageable, but I still had my viva and final edits to complete. With God’s grace, I finished it all before my son arrived!

Have I felt like giving up? Not exactly. But there were countless moments of doubt when I wondered if I had it in me. Through the sleepless nights, the unfinished drafts, the car rides to my mother’s house and the café, the hours spent breastfeeding and pumping, and the many tears and tantrums—mine and my children’s—I grew.

In a world that often values titles over tenderness, I too once held the same values — motherhood felt like a distant, optional idea. But life had other plans. And now I say: Try it! Dream boldly and love fiercely at the same time. You do not have to choose. You can shape a life where dreams and children grow together.