In The Space Of A Few Weeks, Jade Jagger Became A Mum And Grandmother: Reread Jade Jagger‘s touching essay from July 2018 about becoming pregnant at the same time as her first daughter on Mother’s Day.
People are always surprised to learn that I gave birth to my ~, Ezra, three years ago. Assisi, my daughter, was born at home, much as I did when she was born. During her 72-hour labor, I squeezed her hand and breathed with her during contractions as we walked around the Cornish countryside, while her husband Alex, sister Amba, and the rest of the family awaited the new birth with a trained midwife on hand to allay their fears. If I hadn’t been almost nine months pregnant, all of this would have been a little easier to manage. But I think that’s what happens when the family isn’t overly concerned with following the rules.
I was just out of my youth when I gave birth to Assisi, and three years later, Amba. I was also young and innocent enough at the time to have no particular worries about being a mother — or something else, for that matter. My parents, Mick and Bianca Jagger had divorced when I was a teenager, and I’d lived in two worlds: Cheyne Walk in London and Warhol’s Factory in New York. I met Piers, Assisi, and Amba’s father, shortly after leaving boarding school in Wiltshire, and we started our own family together when I was 20.
Motherhood turned out to be a perfect fit for me, and it provided me with a sense of clarity and concentration that had always been lacking in my life. While raising our children, Piers and I divided our time between London and a house in Dorset, working as artists and staging exhibits together. We eventually drifted apart, and my daughters – and I – grew up. I started my own company and traveled to more far-flung locations around the globe than ever before. I wanted my daughters to learn and discover as much as I did as a child while also maintaining the semblance of a schedule. When I think back on their early years, images of them playing on the beach in Goa or toddling around our home in Ibiza come to mind.
Motherhood turned out to be a perfect fit for me, and it provided me with a sense of clarity and concentration that had always been lacking in my life. While raising our children, Piers and I divided our time between London and a house in Dorset, working as artists and staging exhibits together. We eventually drifted apart, and my daughters – and I – grew up. I started my own company and traveled to more far-flung locations around the globe than ever before. I wanted my daughters to learn and discover as much as I did as a child while also maintaining the semblance of a schedule. When I think back on their early years, images of them playing on the beach in Goa or toddling around our home in Ibiza come to mind.
I had to keep my pregnancy a secret for months as an older mother, which was tough in our open family. Being pregnant at the same time as my daughter became a genuinely bonding experience after I told Assisi she was having a little brother – and wrapped my mind around the possibility of becoming a grandma in my early forties. Our due dates were just a few weeks apart, so I had someone to talk to about cravings and feeling the baby twitch during the last trimester. My first-born happened to be my confidante.
Ray was born just weeks after Assisi had Ezra. In all of the ups and downs of the first year with a child, the two were there for each other. When the kid was crying or refusing to breastfeed, she would call me in the middle of the night. She, in particular, guided me through all of the questions that come with being a new mother: “Am I doing this right? Is the kid all right? Would I ever be able to sleep again?” Even though I was a decade older than her, it seemed like we were on the same learning curve. I hadn’t had a kid in almost two decades, and the feeling – and I – were completely different.
As the years have passed, we’ve gained respect and begun to rely less on each other, allowing us to settle into our parenting styles. Ezra leads Assisi around like a shadow on a farm in the countryside, where she has grown into rural life. I live in north London, but I’m always on the road for my business, making jewelry in Jaipur or building fincas in Formentera – and Ray always accompanies me.
Still, in the end, the bonds that link us are deeper than ever, not only within our immediate families but in the Jagger clan. My father currently has eight children and five wives, creating a global support network that appears to be growing by the day. Every year, the whole family could decamp to the Caribbean for a vacation or hit the road in Europe for a Rolling Stones tour – family gatherings where typical roles are lost amid mayhem and laughter. In general, we’re too preoccupied with finding a restaurant that can host several hundred shouting Jaggers for the evening to be concerned with someone’s pedigree.
My husband and I recently purchased a home in Gloucestershire to serve as a meeting spot for all of us. It’s a conventional British home — for a family that isn’t so ordinary. My son will tear through the garden with his niece, who is just a month older than him, at get-togethers this season. My father could turn up with his new son, Deveraux, our youngest, ready to play hide-and-seek with the kids. Georgia May, my half-sister, will most likely drop by to catch up with Assisi and Amba, who she considers more like friends than nieces. Maybe it’s just because of our reputation for eccentricity, or maybe it’s all part of being a modern family.
