Lucy & James Catchpole

Mother’s Day – disability, joy and wheelchairs

By Lucy Catchpole

Disabled mothers are so often invisible – or our disabilities are, anyway. Mobility aids tucked out of sight, or not used in the first place because of the stigma.

Mother’s Day has been and gone here in the UK, but it happens so early in the year – I’m never ready. (I need flowers to be out before I reflect on motherhood. Apparently.) So I’m jumping on North America as my second chance…

Lucy - a white woman with long brown hair - sits in her wheelchair, with both daughters perched on and around her. They're smiling at the camera.

You might have seen this photo before – if you follow us here or on Instagram, or have read our books. I took it when the girls were still small enough to crowd onto the wheelchair with me – just. I love that Viola’s nestling into me, while Mainie looks like she’s about to fly off.

That’s the two sides of motherhood really, isn’t it? Letting them dash around for adventures, and come back to us for comfort.

An unexpected thing – since Mama Car came out. I’ve received messages from now-adult children of wheelchair-using mothers.

(Why should this surprise me? I know disabled mothers have always been here. But maybe, on some level, I don’t REALLY know that.)

In these messages, they tell me about their mothers – remarkable, resilient mothers. They talk about the comfort and joy of their mother’s wheelchairs – details they’d forgotten from early childhood, and been reminded of. Small details. Like ‘feet in’ when you’re going through a doorway, and the way a wheelchair can feel like home.

Why did they forget, I wonder?

What happens to the way children of disabled mothers see their parent once early childhood is over and they’re out in the world, where a tut or “aah” is a usual response to a wheelchair?

  • Lucy and James with Viola (as a baby) and Mainie. Lucy's in her wheelchair, James wears a prosthetic leg over his clothes. It's an action shot - and our profile photo.
  • Lucy Catchpole with both her daughters on her lap. Viola is about two years old and wears a bonnet. She looks cold. Their hair flies about - it's a windy day.
  • Lucy and James hold their daughters - then one and six - upside down. Everyone's smiling, outdoors, and wearing florals.
  • Lucy Catchpole and her daughters - a white mother with long brown hair, wearing a honey-coloured linen skirt, she's outdoors in her wheelchair. One daughter is on her lap while the other is trying to climb aboard.
  • Lucy is in her wheelchair - with both daughters. Viola (around 4yo) is nestled into her lap, Mainie's (8) perched on the armrest at the other side, her arms full of toys. They’re all white with long brown hair, and smiling at the camera. Dense foliage is behind them.
  • Lucy sits in the middle of both girls in her wheelchair, holding the US Mama Car blads. Viola and Mainie are 6 and 10. Mainie's laughing, while Viola wears a very fetching wide-brimmed straw hat.

Because this – the joy, freedom and comfort – is not the story the world tells about disabled mothers, is it? This isn’t what you imagine when you picture a wheelchair at the heart of family life. It isn’t the role you imagine a mother’s wheelchair playing.

I wanted this photo – with the wheelchair – to mark what this stage of motherhood meant to me. To pin down something that feels so precious.

Lucy - a white woman with long brown hair - sits in her wheelchair, with both daughters perched on and around her. They're smiling at the camera.

And I suppose that’s what Mama Car is, too. A way of marking out my reality, my children’s reality.

Saying: this is who I am as a mother. This is real – this is good.

  • A page from Mama Car. Illustration shows the mother in her wheelchair, scooping up her young child - who's crying. The words on the page read: "And then the Mama Car is just there, like home."
  • A jpg of another page from Mama Car. In this illustration the child is nestled into her mother's lap, eyes closed. A floral scarf is drawn round her. The mother's hand on the wheelchair wheel is visible at the side.
  • Mama Car - blads of the US edition. (An early stapled and bound rough version.) Book cover: A white mother with brown hair in a ponytail sits in her yellow wheelchair, cradling her child of 3yo or so on her lap. She’s looking slightly down at the girl, lovingly, while the girl’s snuggled into her, smiling. The mother wears a long dark green skirt, dark orange cardigan and dark red gloves, and a blue beret. The background is pale green. ‘Lucy Catchpole’ and ‘Karen George’ are at the bottom, title ‘Mama Car’ is at the top in large print, in the same colour palette as the mother’s clothes

~ Lucy

Mama Car

There’s more about the book, including lesson plans and colouring pages, just here. It’s out now in the UK, and comes out in 2025 in the US with Little Brown.

Mama Car at Blackwell’s
US edition of Mama Car

Who are we?

We’re Lucy and James Catchpole, we’re both disabled, and we run the Catchpole Agency – a children’s literary agency – and sometimes write too. You can find us most reliably on Instagram. And you can find our books here – books by Lucy and James.

What Happened to You? You're So Amazing! Mama Car, Owning It: Our disabled childhoods, We've Got This: Essays by Disabled Parents, Going Viral. Books by Lucy & James Catchpole

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