IT IS commonplace to suppose that sport is character-building. I won’t be able to eat.Then I’m told that the hospital wants to keep me for a few more days for tests I’m so relieved. I’ve been crying.The governor of the prison comes to see me in the morning She stays about two minutes and doesn’t look at the baby She says I’ll have to give her up tomorrow That messes me up completely Yesterday, I was bonding with her Now, I’m afraid to get close. I think she’s picking up the tension because she is crying a lot I pick her up and she calms down She recognises my voice.FridayThe appeal is this afternoon I don’t know what’s going to happen. I want to tell the judges that the prison has made a mistake.

If they take my baby away, I’ll be brought back to prison and put in the mental unit for a few days I know I’ll be catatonic. She’s got my nose, but that’s about it.ThursdayI dress the baby in pink: a cream hat with pink flowers and matching body-suit, and socks her father bought Her brown eyes are open, really alert But it’s a bad day. Some of them have children, so they give gentle hints on how to hold her and how to feed her. I’m really bonding with her and hope everything will turn out all right The baby drinks like a fish But breast-feeding is hard I think it’s all the stress There are a lot of dirty nappies At first, they are not too bad But now they are going green She looks just like her father – the forehead, the mouth. At about nine o’clock, I get back to the maternity ward and they tell me that we lost the hearing. I’m gutted, but they say that they will appeal on Friday, so maybe there is still a chance.WednesdayIt’s a good day My family comes in to see the baby And the officers are really nice. She is born at ten to six in the evening and weighs 6lb 11oz She cries straightaway.

I’m in too much pain to take her immediately, so her dad holds her for the first couple of minutes He starts crying Then I take her She is so beautiful, a tiny parcel of beauty. But once a week we get four apples and three oranges.We’re locked up at quarter to eight It’s right in the middle of Coronation Street. I don’t watch it, but other people are always asking to stay a bit longer.TuesdayDidn’t sleep last night Then, early in the morning, my waters break. I alert an officer and they take me to hospital in an ambulance I’m not handcuffed, but two officers are with me They are very supportive I’m pleased I’ve hung on until today’s hearing. I hope I’ll hear good news once I’ve had the baby.They give me gas and air, which helps with the contractions. My mum’s in the labour ward with me, along with the baby’s father, and a birthing partner I met at the antenatal classes in prison She helps me breathe, rubbing my back. Two officers are also there, but when the contractions get really strong a doctor asks them to leave, so they go.I start pushing, and very quickly she’s out.