I am running my first marathon in Rome in 2026 to raise money for maternal mental health services, in memory of our daughter Delphine, who died in March 2022.

Since then, we have welcomed two healthy little boys, who are my entire universe. Micah was born in June 2023, and Sol in April 2025.

Being pregnant after the death of a child is terrifying. I lived each day fearing that the same tragedy might happen again. Since losing Delphine, I have struggled with flashbacks, sleeplessness, panic attacks, and anxiety.

The contrast in the quality of care across different NHS trusts is staggering. After Delphine’s death, I received no psychological or psychiatric support. Yet a friend, cared for under another NHS trust, was offered six months of weekly trauma and grief counselling.

Even as a “high-risk” mother—having lost a baby at 41 weeks’ gestation for unknown reasons—it was almost impossible to access appropriate scans, clinician oversight, or a named midwife. I had to change hospitals, write formal letters, and carry bundles of notes before I finally received the care that NHS protocols said I was entitled to (thank you, UCLH).

I am a barrister with healthcare law experience. I am trained, equipped, and privileged enough to navigate a failing system. But others are not so fortunate, and even from my position, the emotional toll of poor care, on top of the grief of losing my firstborn, was enormous.

Childbirth and new motherhood are extraordinary, sublime, and dangerous. Repeated inquests and inquiries show that our health services are failing mothers: 38% of services are described as unsafe by the CQC.

It is a stain on our society that we do not protect the women who birth us all. That is why I am running: to raise awareness and funds so that all women and birthing people, whatever their background, receive the care they deserve during pregnancy and childbirth.