No Budget for Saving Mothers

Well Women: A lifeline on the brink

I wouldn’t have had a second child without Well Women. I don’t even know if I would have lived without them.

In a country where suicide is a leading cause of maternal death, we have never lost a mother under our care to suicide. That’s no accident.

Well Women is a grassroots, lived experience-led maternal mental health service. Many call us a lifeline. Right now, we're at breaking point. Without urgent financial support, this irreplaceable service will disappear within weeks.

We are 99% grant-reliant. That’s unacceptable now. Grants are fluctuating, restrictive... We need funding to keep our doors open. We’ve had to stop accepting referrals. Services are screaming, “We have nowhere to send our women!”

We’re different because we are built on lived experience. Our team knows what it is to walk through maternal mental distress... and to survive it.

The system can’t do that. When people are rushed, squeezed in, and meet staff who have no idea what’s going on for them, they shut down. With us, they drop their shoulders. They trust.

An invaluable service the sector can't afford to lose

We provide wraparound maternal wellbeing care that meets women as they are. It’s not about ticking forms or fitting triage criteria. We respond to her, not to a checklist.

We offer home visits, group support, respite referrals, phone-based care, and crisis response. Often, it’s after every other door has closed.

Mothers from all walks of life seek us out, especially when other sectors are overrun or waitlisted.

One mother with private insurance went through every official channel. She was turned away because she wasn’t suicidal “enough.” We were the only ones who said yes.

She found us out of desperation and experienced huge relief that we could and would help. Crisis lines are often overstretched. Women call us because they know they’ll get fast, human help.

But they also face the terrifying catch-22. Say too little, you don’t qualify. Say too much, you fear your children will be taken.

We give them skills, tools, lifelong learning and resources to confidently navigate the system and access appropriate help.

If we close, women will be left with nothing

What happens to the women we’re supporting if we close? They’ll have to find their own luck. And I’m not joking – there is no one else.

Pregnant women rely on us as part of their maternal safety plan. There is no fallback. They’ll be forced to call national numbers and retell their story again and again. It’s traumatising. They’ll stop seeking help.

When mothers fall through the cracks, the ripple effects are devastating. They’ll turn back to alcohol, to drugs, to putting up with things longer than they should. That’s catastrophic.

Meanwhile, we’re operating on a shoestring, we’ve never had more self-referrals, and we’ve never had fewer options to sustain what we do. Our own mothers are fundraising for us. But $20,000 might only keep us open another month. That’s the heartbreaking part.

Who keeps the wheels turning? Mum does

New Zealand’s got rugby players with sponsorships everywhere. We’re little, but we pack a mighty punch. Why can’t we get a phone line sponsored?

I’m not asking you to choose between rugby and maternal health. I’m asking for a fair share. Please, share the love. Share the care.

Because without mothers, none of it runs.

Who do you think is driving the kids to sports, doing the washing, managing the emotions, packing the bags, showing up with a brave face? The energy of the household begins with the mother. She’s the one holding everything.

Maternal mental health is a societal issue

Mental health isn’t just the mother’s problem. It’s everybody’s problem. But we’ve made it her silent burden. I hear it every day: “I’m scared I’m actually crazy. I’m scared my children will be taken off me. I’m the only one.”

Society tells women to suffer beautifully. We say: scream if you need to. We’re here.

Our work saves lives. But it also stabilises households, careers, and futures. We’ve got mothers going back to work at six months when they’re not psychologically ready. That doesn’t go well for anyone – them, their families, or their employers. And the cost of neglect? You’ll pay for it in:

• Crisis services
• Education
• Employment, and
• Broken whānau

It’s a house of cards. You’ve got to start at the bottom. You’ve got to start with the mother.

This isn’t just about morality. It’s practical. It makes financial sense. It makes social sense. And it reflects the values New Zealand says it stands for.

This should exist everywhere

“I wish I had Well Women in my time. I wish every mother had this.”

That’s what we hear over and over – from mothers, partners, midwives, support workers, even other agencies. Partners tell our mothers, “I think it’s time you go to Well Women.” They see the difference.

This should be a standard. This should be available everywhere.

And it can be. But only if we act now.

To donate, sponsor or support Well Women, visit www.wellwomen.org.nz or contact support@wellwomen.org.nz.

If this service disappears, it’s not just the women who lose. It’s all of us.