In the early hours of 23rd October I was taken to A&E suffering from a suspected miscarriage. I’d spent the evening at one of my favourite restaurants, catching up with a good friend who I hadn’t seen for a while, and we properly celebrated. I was home by midnight. In A&E by 4. It was far from how I expected my evening to go.

Nothing like this had ever happened to me before. As a couple, my husband and I weren’t trying - I was on the pill. We’d just got married and were busying ourselves with home improvements and our careers. Pregnancy was so low on our list that the whole night came as one big shock. I’ll spare the details but nothing can prepare you for miscarriage - it’s messy, scary, and you're left feeling like an absolute failure of a human. Even if you didn’t want to be pregnant in the first place; the loss, the guilt, and the sadness are all utterly indescribable.

Two days later I jumped straight back into work - back on set lugging around heavy equipment like nothing had happened, like it had happened to someone else - or at least that’s how I treated it.

I really struggled to tell people about it, unsure how to bring it up in conversation. I had managed to tell work and they were incredibly supportive (and understood my need to just get on and keep busy). But I panicked about telling people closest to me because I was worried I’d make them feel awkward or that I’d wreck our plans. With it being autumn we were just at the beginning of big events - Halloween, Bonfire Night, a holiday to the Lakes with friends, and then Christmas, so every time I met up with people it never felt like the right time to tell them. To this day I still haven’t told some of my closest friends. This will probably be the way they find out, which isn’t ideal but the further we move away from that night the harder it is to bring it up.

You might be wondering why I feel the need to tell people at all, and the answer is because I don’t think things like this are talked about enough. Miscarriage is one of those giant taboo subjects. But I’m not ashamed of it. I just want society to talk about things like this. To talk about what help is out there. To share experiences and knowledge that could help other women and couples going through the same thing.

After we arrived at A&E I was moved to a department called Clinic 24 at the Rosie Hospital in Cambridge. The doctors, nurses, and staff there are by far the loveliest people I have ever met. They never made me feel like I was to blame. They were kind and gentle towards me, so much so that I sort of felt like I was getting too much care - I felt as though I didn't deserve their attention. At every appointment and consultation I received after that night they were equally as caring and supportive. Which is why I’ve decided to raise money for them by running a 10k every month for a whole year. My first run will in February to give me time to get back into running (I’ll edit this story with the runs I plan to attend and will post each completed run on Instagram).

As it’s so soon after Christmas I’m aware that money is tight for everyone. Even if this just gets people talking about miscarriage and how to get help and support for those who have been through it that’s all I could possibly wish for. But if you can spare a penny it’s going to help women going through something like this. Frightened, but not alone.

You can find out more about Clinic 24 here.

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