‘I gave her life, but she saved mine’

When Georgia Michalopoulou, 48, an entrepreneur from London, became pregnant, she wasn’t sure she’d cope. But something amazing happened…

‘Every day I grew stronger, spurred on by Hope’

Lying on the hospital bed, I held my breath with anticipation, my heart pounding in the quiet, darkened room. It was my 20-week pregnancy scan and I was about to find out the sex of my baby. When the radiographer said, ‘It’s a girl,’ I began to cry because I had just one name chosen for this child – Hope.

The truth was, were it not for my pregnancy and this child growing inside me, I wasn’t sure I’d still be alive. I discovered I was expecting my daughter during the darkest period of my life when, gripped by severe depression,

I no longer saw a future for myself and had even considered suicide. My baby made me believe my life had a purpose:

to raise her and be her mother. She gave me hope again.

Long before Hope was conceived, I’d struggled with my mental health. I moved to London in 2013 but grew up in Greece, where the culture and conversation around mental illness is very different. It still carries a stigma, and it’s only now, after having therapy, that I can see I suffered from depression for years, functioning around it as best as I could.

However, by 2015, I could function no longer and was signed off sick from my job as a personal shopper. I was far away from family, and in an on-off relationship that didn’t make me happy. It was a bleak time and I sometimes believed there was no point carrying on.

My pregnancy was unplanned but, staring at the positive pregnancy test, I knew immediately I would keep this baby. I had no idea how I was going to cope with bringing a child into the world when my mental health was so poor, and after splitting with my partner

I was on my own, but a termination was never an option. I believed this pregnancy was a sign that I was meant to carry on, and every time I thought of the baby, the name Hope came to me. I couldn’t shake off the feeling of certainty that this should be my child’s name. I started counselling, which helped me feel able to return to work. I was motivated to get well and sort my life out before this baby arrived.

Hope was born in November 2016. When I first held my baby in my arms, I felt so proud of myself. I had a daughter, I was a mother, and leaving hospital with her felt like a new, and better, chapter of my life was beginning.

Conscious that I couldn’t allow my mental health to deteriorate again, I carried on with counselling, took the antidepressants I’d stopped taking during pregnancy, and every day

I grew stronger, spurred on by Hope.

All she had to do was smile at me, or do a ‘first’, such as taking a step or saying a new word, and I was reminded why I was here, and that she needed me to be the best mother I could be.

Her dad is part of her life and sees her regularly, while I juggle motherhood with running my own online fashion business. Emotionally, I’m in such a good place now: those dark days of wanting to give up are behind me. Now I have so much to live for. Hope is an energetic little girl, with a head of curls, who loves Lego and her doll’s house and lights up my life every day with her cheeky smile. Watching her walk into school on her first day this September, I fought back tears of both pride and gratitude for my special girl. I gave her life, but she saved mine.

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