Hope saw the tears in Doris’s eyes and looked away, not wanting to make her feel uncomfortable, but the truth was thatsociety shunned an unwed mother. They were no different, not really. Hope might have chosen to come here of her own accord, but all the women were here because there were very few options for an unmarried woman, pregnant and alone.
‘Well, I suppose all we can do is make the most of it then,’ Hope said, trying to sound bright, even though inside her heart was still breaking.
She lay on the bed, playing with the ring on her finger, wishing she had something from Gus with her. Her hand came to rest on her stomach then, and she immediately started to wonder if perhaps she’d been too hasty in her decision-making. But even if she did take Charles up on his offer of providing a home for her and her baby, what would the future look like? How would her fatherless child be treated at school? What hardships would he or she face, through no choice of their own? But as terrible as all of the negatives sounded, she was starting to doubt the sisters’ interest in placing her unborn child with loving parents, or doing right by her at all.
Hope wiped her damp cheeks and cradled her stomach, moving to lie on her side. She had a lot to think about, and she knew that most doctors wouldn’t assist an unmarried mother. But what if she were to have the baby here and then return to her uncle’s care?
She decided then and there that she would write to him in the morning.
‘Hope?’
She rolled back over to see Doris standing there, a ball of wool in one hand and knitting needles in the other.
‘It’s not much, but we are allowed to knit, to keep our minds occupied when we’re in our rooms,’ Doris said. ‘I only have pink wool, but if you’d like, we could knit a blanket?’
Hope was in two minds about whether to curl into a ball and cry for the rest of the day, but she also knew that tears weren’tgoing to do anything more than leave her puffy-eyed and more miserable. So she sat up and swung her legs off the bed, taking a deep breath and accepting the bundle being offered to her, the soft wool comforting to the touch.
There were worse things she could do with her time than knit her baby a blanket, and keep another young woman who looked every bit as frightened as her company. She only wished that she could have brought her painting supplies with her, to have something familiar around her, something to occupy her hands. Although she hadn’t touched a paintbrush since Gus had passed, and she sometimes doubted whether she’d ever be able to paint again.
Once the baby is here, she told herself.Once the baby is here, I’ll find my way back. She could paint animals and frame them for the baby’s room, and when she had a chubby-cheeked, sticky-fingered toddler, she could teach him or her to paint with her.
Or at least, she hoped she might.
Hope had managed to fall out of favour with all the sisters at the convent. It wasn’t as if any of them had been kind to her in the first place, but when she’d announced that she was going to keep her baby rather than place the child for adoption, having been told in no uncertain terms by her uncle that he would wholeheartedly welcome her home, they’d become even more unfriendly. And it couldn’t have been more obvious how they felt when her water broke, and she was shuffled away to the room that was reserved for birthing.
Doris had left the week prior—she’d left to give birth and never returned, with one of the sisters coming to pack her thingsand telling Hope that all was well. But she’d worried about her ever since, and it was only now as she stood in the cold room, alone, and stared at the small bed covered in a starched white sheet, that she realised just how alone a woman in need could be made to feel. They’d been unlikely friends going through a shared experience, and she only wished they’d been given the chance to support each other, rather than treated as if they were a burden.So much for doing unto others as you would have them do unto you.
But she didn’t have time to think about the unkind sisters for much longer. Hope bellowed, doubled over as a searing pain swept across her stomach, her fists clenched at her sides, but she barely had time to catch her breath before she was being ordered to the bed.
‘May I not walk for a little bit?’ she asked, hating the idea of having to lie on the hard bed. ‘I feel better standing through the pain.’
‘Hurry along, and do as you’re told.’
Hope reluctantly did what was ordered of her, wondering just how much these women even knew about childbirth, but she didn’t say anything else. Just as she didn’t ask why women who were supposed to welcome one and all could be so cold and uncaring towards her and the other young mothers-to-be in their care.
‘The midwife has been sent for, but until then you’re to remain quiet and not make a fuss,’ the sister said with a judgemental look on her face. ‘You put yourself in this predicament, and no one wants to hear your bellowing about it.’
Hope grit her teeth through another wave of pain, wondering how anyone could endure such a thing without making a noise. Certainly the pinch-faced woman standing at her side had no idea of the pain she was enduring—it was as if her body had been set on fire when the contractions began, it was so intense. Shewished she’d had someone to talk to, someone to help her better prepare for what was surely the worst thing she’d ever felt in her life before, but all she received for her worries was a sharp stare.
She did her best not to moan too loudly as wave after wave racked her body, as her fingers clawed at the bed, the sheets a tangled mess between her legs as the urge to push began to take over. Hope closed her eyes, calling on every bit of strength she possessed, imagining Gus by her side, stroking her hair, whispering that everything would be all right.
‘What’s her name?’ a woman asked.
When Hope opened her eyes, feeling delirious from the pain and exhaustion, she saw the midwife standing with her bag. Her face was kindly and she was smiling, which was a welcome relief after the coldness of the sisters.
‘Hope,’ she croaked. ‘My name is Hope.’
‘Please get Hope some water—she’ll need to keep her fluids up, and I’ll need more towels and some clean water,’ the midwife said, nodding at the sister. ‘I’ve told you before that you need to ensure they keep sipping water during labour, and that they’re best to keep moving for a while rather than rolling around in pain for so long.’
Hope cried out then, unable to stay silent through the pain, but the midwife didn’t scold her. Instead she came and pressed her fingers to Hope’s wrist to take her pulse and then gave her the first warm smile she’d received in days.
‘You’re doing fine, Hope, but I’m going to take a look and see how things are progressing,’ she said. ‘Is it all right with you if I lift up your skirt? I’m very experienced at bringing babies into the world.’
Hope nodded, biting down on her lower lip as the last of the contraction eased.
‘I’m sorry you had to labour so long before I got here.’
‘Don’t let them take my baby,’ Hope whispered. ‘Whatever happens, I need you to know that I’m keeping?—’
