As a Lieutenant Colonel in the New Zealand Army, the mother-of-five had been away in Juba, South Sudan for five long months. Photo / Rachael Brown Photography
She has it sweet at home, but when she gets the call to duty, Megan dons her fatigues and kisses her five babies goodbye.
Megan Elmiger still gets teary-eyed thinking about her surprise reunion with her children in April this year.
As a Lieutenant Colonel in the New Zealand Army, the mother-of-five had been away in Juba, South Sudan, facing danger and violence – and fighting her own personal battle against Covid-19 – for five long months.
During her deployment, Megan had missed her brood every day and now that she was home for a well-deserved break, she couldn't wait to give them the surprise of their lives.
"Look! There's the nanny," her husband Lieutenant Colonel Bevan Elmiger exclaimed as he and the kids went for an autumn walk at Auckland's Panmure Basin.
But instead of the new babysitter the children had been told they were going to meet, there was Megan, crying tears of joy.
Not many mothers would volunteer for a job involving months away from their children. But it's those precious moments, reuniting with family, that remind her how privileged she feels to serve overseas while knowing her children are back home, safe and sound.
"I hate being away from my kids, but it's creating resilience – they grow and develop so much from seeing me and their dad go away and do things for others," says Megan, 44, who has now returned to Juba. "They miss me, but they're proud I'm helping those less fortunate than we are.
"My children are loved, supported and cared for in one of the best countries in the world, while I provide support to people less fortunate," adds the former Southland basketball, athletics and badminton rep, who has a 17-year-daughter, Zoe, from a previous relationship, plus four children with Bevan – Willow, 12, Maggie, 10, Lincoln (LJ), 8, and Chase, 6.
During her 26 years in the NZ Defence Force, the Invercargill native has impressively risen through the ranks.
It was a different story when she joined the army at 18. While her sporty background, combined with her farm upbringing and having three brothers, made her feel well-equipped for male-dominated military life, she struggled as the lone female among 24 Officer Cadets.
"I had a room to myself, while all the blokes shared rooms, so they developed friendships easily, whereas I had to work at it," she recalls.
Training and working as a logistics planning officer, Megan's first deployment was to East Timor in 2002. Witnessing locals living in makeshift grass huts and children wandering around unclothed was a culture shock. "There was violence, street fires, people with machetes. It was scary."
Staying connected with loved ones was another hurdle, with military personnel only permitted weekly 10-minute calls from a phone box.
Her second deployment to East Timor was harder, having left Zoe, then 3, with her parents and Zoe's father, from whom she had separated.
"I was crying when I kissed her goodbye," tells Megan, her voice breaking. "I can still feel that emotion.
"The army has evolved in its family-friendly policies, but I found it really difficult when I had Zoe. These days, there are mothers' rooms, physical instructors to help us ease back into training and parental guides. Back then, mums left the army because they didn't have support."
She soldiered on, but parenting challenges continued, like when she farewelled LJ when he was 1 to head to high-risk Afghanistan in 2013.
"I came back to New Zealand and he didn't want to hug me," she shares. "He'd seen me on screens, but I was some scary person, so he would go to his dad. It took two months before he'd hug me or let me change his nappies. That was really difficult."
It's Bevan who has kept family life ticking along during Megan's deployments, just as she has when he's away – thanks to the army avoiding deploying couples at the same time.
The two met during a 2005 military trip to Malaysia, where Megan quizzed a colleague about "that good-looking man", then declared she would marry him.
"There was something about him – tall, handsome and really nice," she tells.
Meeting for coffee back in Aotearoa, romance blossomed. Bevan, from Tauranga, proposed on his birthday, reenacting a Coke ad by pretending his phone was ringing, saying "It's for you", then presenting a ring.
"I was like, 'You're such a geek!' We got married within two months because he was deploying to the Sinai."
Tying the knot in Christchurch in June 2007, they welcomed four children over the following eight years.
After having Zoe, Megan had taken six months' maternity leave, but with her next four children, she took just three months' leave for each.
"The daycare facility was just outside camp and I was able to breastfeed in my breaks," says Megan, who has never had a nanny thanks to hands-on support from both sets of grandparents and other family members.
Megan credits Bevan for helping her juggle motherhood with army commitments, which have included four overseas deployments.
"He's home with the kids, cooking dinners and taking them to sports practices. We often think of females handling domestic duties, but my husband does a bloody good job!
"We're both in the military, so we understand what's expected of us and that sometimes, one of us has to take the back seat to support the other. And he's been deployed as many times as I have, so we make it work because we love each other, love what we do and love our family."
That frequently means sacrificing spending special occasions together. During Bevan's last deployment, he missed the couple's 10-year wedding anniversary. But having taken note of an eternity ring Megan loved, he bought it and hid it in a sock, then called her on the day, directing her to the gift.
"I started crying," says Megan. "He's so attentive and just goes the extra mile."
The Waiouru-based pair also recognise the importance of couple time.
"Marriage is tough. It needs time and attention. That's why we don't feel guilty going away for long weekends without the kids."
But what does cause guilt is being away from the children during important or difficult times.
"You want to give hugs and kisses for all the scrapes, bruises and bad days, but sometimes a phone call must suffice," confides Megan, who missed Christmas, for the second time, in 2020 and will miss Willow's 13th birthday.
"I get the mum guilts all the time, but you can't keep beating yourself up. I try to reframe it into a positive like, 'We'll do something extra-special when I return.'"
Megan video-calls the clan and WhatsApp messages the girls while deployed for six to 11-month periods. When she's not abroad, she's working for the Defence Force as a logistics officer, and helped in the aftermath of the Christchurch earthquakes and mosque shootings.
In Juba, she's Chief Plans Officer at the United Nations Mission in South Sudan's Force HQ, responsible for 14,000 troops. While the environment's more stable than Afghanistan, things can change at any second, so she must take someone with her if she leaves the UN compound, where she lives in an apartment, for groceries or errands.
Things took a frightening turn in February, when she faced the biggest health scare in her army career: Covid-19.
Placed in isolation after a colleague contracted the virus, Megan was puzzled when she lit her favourite strawberries-and-cream-scented candle but couldn't smell it. Testing positive for the virus, she spent three days unable to leave her bed. "The doctor said, 'If you don't get up, and eat and drink, I'll admit you to hospital,' which kicked me into gear. I was suffering vertigo, but I made myself drink and eat."
The health scare made her even more grateful to return home and surprise her children in April. The family celebrated Maggie's 10th birthday, visited the Sky Tower, went rock-climbing and holidayed in Whitianga.
Due home again by Christmas, for now Megan's busy in Juba. When she's not working, she's cleaning, exercising, watching Netflix and practising self-care.
She says mental health awareness is another aspect of army life which has improved. She explains, "During my first deployment, going to psych assessments, people were like, 'Don't say stuff because if they think you're crazy, that's it', whereas these days you're encouraged to talk.
"It's about normalising the fact everyone experiences things differently. For me, after a stressful day, I light candles, listen to music and use Headspace, a mindfulness app." She adds "me time" is also important to ensure she's fit to be the best mother and it's her children she hopes to continue inspiring, particularly her daughters.
"I hope my kids see that Mum and Dad can do anything, and that my daughters choose careers irrespective of gender balances," says Megan, who's often the only female in a room of leaders. "It used to bother me when people said I should be home with the kids or not leave my husband, but when my husband was deployed, nobody mentioned these things.
"Too many women feel like they have to choose between a successful career and being a good parent. You don't have to give up your dreams because you have kids. My kids see I'm trying to make a difference and they're proud."
Telegraph: Is a transactional relationship ever OK? It's complicated, says Rachel Johnson.