Miscarriage is not something that stays at home

The loss of my second baby was straightforward compared to the first (a life-threatening ectopic pregnancy). But no miscarriage is ever really straightforward.

This is one of the very personal stories I'll be sharing during Baby Loss Awareness Week.

I miscarried at 10 weeks, despite terrible morning sickness and feeling very pregnant. ‘I'm sorry, there's no heartbeat’.

I was monitored regularly incase it was another ectopic and the closer I got to 12 weeks the more confident I felt. But my growing confidence and resilience vanished the moment I heard those words.

I was sent to the pharmacy to collect the medication needed to manage the miscarriage. As if losing my baby wasn’t hard enough, the doctor hadn’t ticked the exemption box, and I was asked to pay for the prescription – to pay for my own loss. I nearly vomited on the spot.

In that moment, I felt punished – like it was my fault, like I had chosen this. All I could do was sit there in shock, feeling completely lost.

Then I remembered I was expected back in the office soon. I'd just popped out for the scan. I needed to call my boss.

I didn’t know what to say, how long I’d be off work, or when I’d feel ready to return. My baby had died, and I was expected to carry on. To manage my life and watch the world continue to turn.

That evening I took the pill. Over the next few days, my baby left my body painfully and heartbreakingly, but it wasn’t over. I needed surgery to complete the miscarriage. I sobbed to the nurse when I woke, desperate for my baby to be back inside me.

A few days later, I was back at work – a shell of myself. The world seemed to expect me to move on, but my heart couldn't. I couldn't talk about it to anyone, it was too raw, too private.

I share this during Baby Loss Awareness Week not for sympathy but to raise awareness of what it feels like to grieve a loss and still try to function in the workplace. Miscarriage is not something that stays at home – it follows us into every aspect of our lives, including work.

This is why I advocate for fertility-friendly workplaces. No one should go through such a loss without support. It’s time we recognise miscarriage for what it is – not just a medical event, but a profound, life-changing loss. Let’s talk about it. Let’s raise awareness. Let’s make sure no one suffers in silence.