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Good morning. High up in one of the stained glass windows in the Chapel here at Trinity College is a saint you might easily overlook amongst the crowd of worthies were it not for her rather distinctive attribute. Peter has his keys, Catherine has her wheel, George has his dragon – but Perpetua, the saint you might otherwise miss, has a rather bonny baby. She is surely not the only saint to have had a baby, but she holds her baby for a poignant reason. When she was rounded up with a few other Christians in Carthage in late 202 or early 203, her child was still nursing and accompanied her to prison – and she only parted with him shortly before she and her companions, condemned to the beasts, died brutal deaths in what were deemed entertainments. Just as Perpetua might be missed amongst all the worthies in the stained glass, so in the fevered excitement of this week’s will he/won’t news coverage, you may have missed a quieter story about pregnant women in prison in England. Research published by Coventry University examined the experiences of 22 such women. About 600 pregnant women enter UK prisons each year, and there are about 50 expectant mothers in prison at any time. Of course even pregnant women can commit serious offences, but amongst the women in the survey, shoplifting was the most common offence – in one case committed by a women who was 30 weeks pregnant and living in a car park. But whatever the immediate cause of their imprisonment, the women had typically experienced one or more of poverty, homelessness, domestic violence, mental health issues or addiction. Needless to say, prison is not an ideal place to be pregnant, let alone to give birth. The initial research was begun following the death in 2019 of a baby whose mother had given birth alone in her cell. In his very final teaching before his crucifixion, as reported in Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus imagines the Son of Man sitting in glory and dividing the people as a shepherd separates sheep and goats. The sheep, called to his right hand, are those who have taken in the stranger, fed the hungry and – amongst other things – visited those in prison. But the word translated ‘visited’ means a bit more than popping in for a chat – it carries the connotation of checking up on, looking upon for the sake of looking after, even to look out for. There is a big question as to whether prison is the best way to deal with women or men who have suffered the multiple deprivations and traumas which are so often found on the path towards crime. But the more focused question is whether it is ever necessary or right to imprison pregnant women. In her diary, Perpetua tells us that what she hated most about prison was the darkness, the crowding, and the stifling heat – but on top of all that, she writes, ‘I was consumed with worry for my infant in that dungeon’. Along with Perpetua, we should worry about the 600 women every year who enter a system which is certainly not designed to provide care to expectant mothers and their unborn children.