Becoming CEO at 6 Months Pregnant: Rethinking Leadership, Culture, and Care

A month or so ago, I was asked to take on the role of CEO at SMG, a global retail media specialist with offices in the U.K. and the U.S. Somewhat unusually, I was six months pregnant at the time.

The reactions have been fascinating: congratulations, followed by congratulations again. There’s normally an accompanying smile that’s a combination of shock and curiosity, along with a sense that this combination of events, or certainly this timing, isn’t something people are used to seeing.

It’s not unusual because it’s unworkable. It’s unusual because, structurally and culturally, we’ve made it so.

I’ve been with SMG for a long time, through different chapters and roles, from commercial and client leadership to operations and strategy. I’ve been part of this company as it has grown from a challenger into an established retail media specialist. I’ve taken maternity leave here before, and I’ve returned, as has our chief people officer, who is currently eight months pregnant, too. I’ve seen plenty of people progress into bigger roles before, during, or after parental leave. This isn’t treated as an exception, but as part of how we’ve built our culture at SMG. It doesn’t make headlines internally because it’s just how things work here.

That kind of long-term thinking around talent, and particularly female talent, is still far too rare. Across much of the advertising industry, there remains a deeply embedded caution when it comes to progression and parenthood. It’s rarely explicit (in my experience, those days are, thankfully, mostly gone), but it surfaces subtly in the way conversations get delayed, responsibilities softened, and decisions deferred. The logic seems to be that people who are temporarily less available might also be permanently less ambitious. That assumption, however, is just that: an assumption.

The talent we risk losing in these moments is often exactly the talent businesses say they want more of—strategic, committed, experienced, resilient. I’ve seen many times, from watching people in my team, that pregnancy doesn’t diminish leadership potential. In many ways, it cements it.

Still, I recognize how uncommon it is to see pregnant leaders in visible positions. More often, it’s something quietly managed or entirely hidden. When you don’t see it, it’s easy to internalize the idea that these two identities—CEO and mother, or mother-to-be—are somehow incompatible. There’s a notion that still exists: If you’re one, you can’t fully be the other.

That perception is part of a broader story we continue to tell ourselves about what leadership looks like. For decades, the image of a CEO has been shaped by a fairly rigid set of expectations: constant availability, full-time visibility, relentless drive, total independence. The classic archetype is someone who’s always on the move, always in control, often male, and rarely encumbered by visible caregiving responsibilities. It’s a version of leadership built around stamina and individualism, and for a long time, it went largely unchallenged.

The world, however, has changed. What businesses need from leadership today is very different from what they needed 20 years ago. The pace of change, the complexity of the operating environment, the growing focus on culture, inclusion, sustainability, and adaptability—all of these demand something broader and more human. Leadership today needs range, empathy, clarity, and the ability to build strong teams that can lead together. The idea that any one person should embody an entire organization is not just outdated, it’s short-sighted and counterproductive.

The version of the CEO role I’m stepping into is different, both by necessity and by choice. It is shared, for one thing. I’m taking on this position during a time of transition, supported by strong leaders across the business who bring different perspectives, styles, and specialisms. It is more focused than all-consuming, and built on trust, not presence. It’s also designed to continue running well when I step away temporarily—which, to me, is a sign of strength in a company’s leadership, not weakness.

That doesn’t mean it’s easy. It takes conscious effort to unpick long-held beliefs about how things “should” be done, including some that I’ve held myself. It also takes systems that are genuinely flexible, not just on paper. It requires a workplace culture that values what people contribute and the impact they have above all else. At SMG, we don’t always get it perfectly right, but we do try to design roles with an awareness that our team have important lives outside of work. That matters more than ever in an industry that constantly pushes for more, faster, bigger.

The systems outside of work—the ones that are meant to support working parents—still don’t. In the U.S., childcare is now the biggest expense for many families, often exceeding the cost of housing. At the same time, the U.S. remains the only high-income country without a national paid parental leave policy. There’s no structural incentive for businesses to make space for care. So if leadership roles feel inaccessible, it’s not because women lack confidence, ambition, or capability. It’s because the infrastructure too often lacks the necessary development or investment.

In that context, appointments like mine might feel symbolic. But they shouldn’t be. They should be normal. They should follow open conversations, long-term career planning, and a recognition that leadership potential doesn’t vanish when someone becomes pregnant.

I don’t know if I’d have predicted this moment—stepping into a bigger job while preparing to step out of the business for something personal. What I do know is that the timing doesn’t undermine the role, just as the role doesn’t define the leader.

There’s still progress to be made, both in the advertising industry and across society. The more we see leaders who reflect the full reality of modern life, the closer we get to building companies and cultures that reflect the future we want.