The Birth of MotherDaily

When I was 14, my life revolved around gymnastics. I had been training since I was six, competing at an elite level, and had won three junior national championships. I was training for my third international competition when everything changed.

During a training camp at the Australian Institute of Sport in Canberra, my shoulder kept dislocating. Eventually, I was sent back to Perth for surgery, a major reconstruction that took me out of my usual 36-hour training weeks for six months. It was devastating, but I had no idea that this injury would lead to an even bigger discovery about my health.

While I was recovering, my recurrent sinus infections got worse. My GP, following a tip from his own father, decided to take a chest X-ray—a rare but crucial decision. What he found was shocking: my lungs did not look like those of a 14-year-old athlete.

I was referred to a respiratory specialist who ordered a series of tests, including one for cystic fibrosis (CF). I had just learned about CF in school, and I remember my specialist reassuring me that it was just a formality.

CF is diagnosed through a sweat test, which measures the salt levels in your sweat. The process was gruelling—bundled up in a ski jacket, I had to run up and down five flights of stairs at the children’s hospital for 30 minutes, trying to produce enough sweat for the test. I remember thinking, How do people with CF, who struggle to breathe, even complete this?

The results came back with alarmingly high sodium chloride levels. The doctor assumed it was a mistake and had me redo the test. The second result was just as high. I had CF.

My first thought? I’ve had this my whole life, and I’ve managed to live normally up until now. I just have to keep doing what I’m doing.

The doctors believed that my intense gymnastics training had kept my lungs healthy for so long, but it wasn’t sustainable. I had to step away from gymnastics and find another way to stay healthy. Running became my new go-to.

As a high-achieving, Type A personality, I threw myself into running daily and controlling my diet in an effort to be “healthy.” Unfortunately, this obsession spiralled into orthorexia. By 16, I weighed just 44kg. My period had stopped, and I saw it as a sign that I was lean and “healthy.” But doctors saw it differently. A gynaecologist bluntly told me that my low weight could impact my ability to have children one day. That hit hard. I didn’t know if I wanted kids, but I didn’t want to lose the option.

Recovering from an eating disorder is tough, but I gradually found my way out and focused on finishing school. I pursued a commerce degree and spent time in and out of the hospital for IV antibiotics, but for the most part, I kept my CF private.

During a university exchange in the U.S., I met Nick Oates—another Perth native I had somehow never crossed paths with. Our time at college felt like a movie, and turning 21 there was unforgettable. But being away from home also forced me to reflect on what I truly wanted in life. The average life expectancy for someone with CF is 44. I knew I had to be intentional about how I spent my time.

Before my exchange, I had interned in mergers and acquisitions—one of the toughest, most cutthroat environments, where I was one of the only females in my team. Sitting in a glass cubicle for 15-hour days, making money for people who already had plenty, didn’t align with my values. I wanted to work with people, be part of a community, and make a real impact.

That’s when I decided to pivot. I committed to five more years of university and two more degrees to become a chiropractor.

I was introduced to chiropractic care after my shoulder surgery. Despite weekly physiotherapy, I was in constant pain until a friend convinced me to see her dad, a chiropractor. Within a few sessions, my pain significantly improved. The holistic approach to treatment resonated with me, and I knew this was the career I wanted to pursue.

Fast forward five years and three degrees later, I started working as a chiropractor. But the stress of my new job, combined with daily exposure to germs, took a toll on my health. Some mornings, I would wake up so congested that I’d spend the first hour vomiting mucus. I remember driving to work at 100km/h along the freeway, throwing up into a container I kept in my car for these moments. Something had to change.

Around this time, my brother-in-law, Edward, was diagnosed with motor neurone disease (MND) at just 29. He and my sister, Sarah, had just had their first baby. Watching Sarah navigate new motherhood while facing Edward’s terminal diagnosis was heartbreaking. I felt helpless.

I wanted to be there for her more, so I quit my job and started locuming around Australia. This gave me the flexibility to travel and also learn from different clinics before opening my own. In October 2020, in the middle of COVID, I launched Pillar Chiropractic and Pilates in Subiaco.

Edward was instrumental in guiding me through the business side of things—his confidence and resilience were inspiring. He had left a big accounting firm to start his own business, despite knowing he had a terminal illness. If he could take that risk, I could too.

Six weeks after I opened Pillar, Edward passed away. Due to COVID restrictions, I couldn’t get to Melbourne for his funeral. The lack of closure was devastating, and I struggled with survivor’s guilt. Why had I outlived him?

Where MotherDaily was born

I channeled my grief into work, which included pouring myself into supporting new mothers through their postnatal recovery. Many women told me they felt invisible after giving birth—medical check-ups focused on the baby, and their struggles were dismissed. I realised there was a huge gap in postpartum care.

By my early 30s, my health was declining. Chronic lung infections and reduced lung function made me doubt whether motherhood was something I could look forward to in my future. Then, in 2022, a groundbreaking CF drug called Trikafta became available in Australia. It was the first treatment that addressed CF at a cellular level rather than just managing symptoms.

Getting access to Trikafta wasn’t easy. The drug cost over $250,000 a year, and families were remortgaging their homes to afford it. When it was finally added to the Pharmaceutical Benefits Scheme, I started treatment. A week later, I broke out in full-body hives—likely a reaction to either Trikafta or COVID, which I had just caught for the first time. I had to stop the drug, and I feared I wouldn’t be able to take it again.

Thankfully, I was able to restart it, and the results were life-changing. My chronic cough disappeared. My lungs cleared. Decades long infections subsided. It felt like I had a second chance at life—and with that, the possibility of becoming a mother.

My interest in pregnancy and postpartum care grew as I realized just how overwhelming and costly postpartum recovery could be. Many women were overwhelmed by complicated supplement regimens, desperately trying to feel better, yet there was no simple, all-in-one solution. As someone who understands the importance of consistency in medication and supplementation—it's literally a matter of life or death for me—I know how hard it can be to keep up with daily routines. When I heard from sleep-deprived, busy mothers struggling to maintain consistency with their own health, I knew there had to be a better way. That’s when the idea for a comprehensive ‘all-in-one’ supplement truly took shape.

That’s when I called Nick, who had been working in the baby formula space. Together, we spent two years recruiting experts, researching, developing, and testing. The result? MotherDaily—a comprehensive postpartum supplement designed to support mothers in a simple, sustainable way.

Looking back, my journey has been far from conventional. From elite gymnastics to battling CF, navigating loss to building a business, and now creating something to help mothers thrive—every twist and turn has shaped me. Life is unpredictable, but when you embrace it with purpose, every challenge can lead to something truly meaningful. This mission to make a real difference in the lives of mothers is undoubtedly the most rewarding and impactful journey I’ve ever embarked on.

With Love, 

Amy x