Waiting to be Born by N,
Acrylic and mixed media on canvas 15cm by 15cm
Dear Hope,
You were born in London just before the Global Pandemic. It was an emergency C Section. The midwives who helped me came from all over the world, and they were wonderful. In recovery there was one midwife who I will never forget. She was from Thailand. I remember her kindness. She was so caring. We spent six days in hospital together. Then, when we came out it was into a congested room with a kitchen and bathroom downstairs. It was hard to walk up and down the steps. You slept in a moses basket. You were between three weeks and one month old. It didn’t feel safe to leave you for a moment. We stayed there for two months. We didn’t sleep, you or I, but we cried together. The Pandemic had started by now. Before that my friends could come and help us but when Lockdown came, we had no more visitors. It was too hard for us. Moving to our new flat was a new chapter. We had space to ourselves. As soon as we arrived you began to sleep through the night. I kept waking up in the middle of the night to feed you while you were sleeping. Some things were very hard, but I learned how to cope. I taught myself to be strong because I needed to take care of you. I baked bread and made biscuits and learned how to paint my own nails and do my hair. I had time to learn how to bake bread and biscuits while you slept. I had to stop because I was putting on too much weight while not getting out to exercise. When we were allowed out, we would walk for a while in the park. Our relationship is so strong because it was just you and mummy. Everyone was wearing masks. When you saw people with a mask on you didn’t smile, only when they removed their masks. It was so different for your sister because she was born after the Pandemic. No masks for her, no emergencies. By then everything was smooth and normal. But I hope for your future, I wish that you can be stronger than me. There will be challenges but your name is Hope. I want you to know that you were my hope and there is always hope. I named you Hope because when I came to this country, I felt hopeless, but you gave me hope and you are my hope.
Love, Mummy
Sandra is Hope’s Mummy. Sandra is from Congo and has lived in London for six years. She has been a client and a volunteer at Islington Centre where she started a baby reading and singing group. She has also performed in a production of ‘Swallow’s Kiss’ at The South Bank Centre and her storytelling has been recorded by The National Literacy Trust.
N has been a regular contributor of the Islington Art and Writing Class for many years. She studied art as an undergraduate and postgraduate both in her homeland and in Britain. Her paintings and sculptures have been exhibited widely.