- When Kyla began raising children rurally and Covid hit she found motherhood isolating
- But joining an online Motherland Village six-week program she connected with other mums all over Oz in a virtual mum’s group
- The group meant she always had another mum to talk to even when she was up in the early hours with kids
- Now the mums have become Kyla’s besties meeting face to face for a cuppa and a wine and their help to Kyla is invaluable
Kyla O’Halloran, 43, from Balranald, NSW tells her story in her own words
Sleep tight,’ I whispered, kissing my daughters, twins Clare and Grace, five, and Lily, two, goodnight.
Padding down the hall to the living room, I was just in time for my Facetime call.
For the last three years my best mates Lou, 44, and Lydia, 38, and I have had a standing phone call each fortnight.
With Lou based in the Victorian Highlands, 407km away from my home in Balranald, NSW, and Lydia in rural Queensland, it wasn’t always easy to coordinate a time between time zones, nap times and kids’ tantrums – but we made it work.
‘We made it through,’ Lou replied.’
‘Hey ladies,’ I smiled as the call connected.
‘How’d we go this week?’ asked Lydia, mum to Henry, five, and Angus, two.
‘We made it through,’ Lou replied, juggling George, six, and twin boys Fred and Tom, three.
I’d connected with them both in April 2023 when we met via Motherland Village program, an online group for rural mums.
It was my mother-in-law Marianne who told me about the group over a cuppa at my place. Having raised her kids on the family farm, located 30km outside Balranald, NSW, she understood the
challenges of rural life.
‘Why don’t you give it a go?’ she encouraged, saying she thought of me after hearing about the group on TV show Landline.
At the time, the twins were 13 months old, and I’d just started back at work as a casual nurse and midwife.
When my husband, Marc, and I met online in 2018, I knew falling for him meant eventually moving to the sheep and crop farm he helped run alongside his mum and dad. It was a big change from Griffith, NSW, where I’d been working as a midwife before we tied the knot in 2020.
‘Motherhood was isolating.’
A year later, we were ecstatic after welcoming Clare and Grace. But it wasn’t always easy raising the girls in the bush.
When Marc was home he doted on them, but putting in 12-hour days on the land, he was often up before they woke and home long after they went to sleep.
I’d lived on a farm growing up, so I knew what to expect after years of watching my dad, Martin, work long hours.
I admired that Marc had that same work ethic. But still, motherhood was isolating, made even more difficult by Covid.
I figured I had nothing to lose, and friends to gain.
READ MORE:How Motherland Founder Stephanie Launched a Community for Lonely Mums
So I joined Motherland’s personalised online mothers’ group and was assigned to a group of 10 mums who each had kids aged 0–3 years.
As the first Zoom call connected in April 2023, nine other faces appeared on the screen from across Australia.
Run by a facilitator, we each shared a bit about ourselves and as we started to chat I found our stories overlapped – the isolation, the busy days minding kids and juggling farm chores.
They’re just like me, I realised. It was a comforting thought.
They’re just like me, I realised. It was a comforting thought.
Each fortnight, I looked forward to getting to know the others better.
I learned that, like me, Lou had twins, and her husband would often be out of the house for hours manning their sheep and cattle farm.
And Lydia’s hubby worked away for months during harvest season.
‘How do you make time for yourself?’ one woman asked.
‘What about re-connecting with your partner?’ asked another.
READ MORE: CWA Country Womens Association Aussie Women Group
After eight weeks of facilitated sessions, Lou, Lydia and I swapped numbers and would then chat during the week.
We spoke openly about everything – motherhood, marriage, exhaustion, wins, doubt – nothing was off limits.
When I welcomed Lily in June 2024, they were the first to text and check-in.
How are you sleeping? Lou typed.
Let us know if you want to call, Lydia added.
In May 2025, we met for the first time in real life at a Motherland event in Deniliquin, NSW, at the Town Hall.
More than 200 women gathered, chatting, exchanging stories and wrangling kids.
As Lydia walked in, her two young boys in tow, she looked like she’d run a marathon.
‘Now I realise the village is there for parent’
‘They spewed the whole 14-hour drive but there was no way I was missing this,’ she grinned.
‘We’re happy you made it,’ Lou beamed.
Sitting and chatting, the conversations in person were no different to our Zooms. It was just like it was on the phone, but we couldn’t hit mute when the kids started yelling!
Three years on, our trio never skips a fortnightly call – usually over a cup of tea or a glass of wine once the kids are in bed.
This month we met up again, this time at the Motherland National Conference in Queensland. Lou and I met at the airport and stayed at Lydia’s home, 30 minutes out of Toowoomba.
People say it takes a village to raise a child, and I used to think that was about the kids. Now, I realise the village is there for parents. When I feel supported, I’m a better mum to my girls and wife to Marc.
I can’t thank Motherland enough. Without their group I wouldn’t have made these special connections and found my village.
To find out more visit: motherlandaustralia.com.au
