Content note: this article contains discussions of miscarriage and baby loss that readers may find upsetting.

After four miscarriages, I got my rainbow baby. I don’t think that I would have been able to even have a discussion about miscarriage if I hadn’t had my son, because it was very, very raw; traumatic, even.

I was approached to make a documentary about miscarriage (the Bafta-nominated Myleene Klass; Miscarriage And Me). It included my friends, family, partner, children and my auntie, who I didn’t realise had had a miscarriage over 40 years ago until I told her about what I was making. She admitted she sees me every day and wonders what her own daughter would be doing now. I say ‘admit’ as it’s been a secret she’s carried until we filmed, such is the level of her trauma.

What I soon realised is that this affects everybody. One in four pregnancies miscarry – that’s thousands of women every single month affected by this dark secret. And the ripple effect of it, the implications that it has on the family, on your partner, on your everyday at work… it’s just so far-reaching, and nothing has been done about it, until now. I assure you, you will all know someone who has been through it.

When I suffered my first miscarriage, I was heartbreakingly told I would have to endure two more before I could receive any medical intervention. Three consecutive miscarriages? Can you imagine being told to hold out for two further heart attacks before receiving actual assistance? Two months ago, I finally helped to pass a bill that is now changing all of this and more, under a policy called The Pregnancy Loss Review.

“For too long, we’ve been failing women who experience miscarriage. I’m determined to change that”