Baby Loss: Covid-19

Siobhain McDonagh Excerpts

Thursday 5th November 2020 Westminster Hall

[Cherilyn Mackrory (Truro and Falmouth) (Con)]

I beg to move,

That this House has considered the effect of the covid-19 outbreak on people experiencing baby loss.

It is a pleasure to serve under your chairmanship. Before I start, how should I address you—Chair?

[Siobhain McDonagh (in the Chair)]

However you like—it will not be the worst thing I have ever been called.

[Cherilyn Mackrory]

This is now the fifth year the House has marked Baby Loss Awareness Week—as with many things, covid-19 caused some delay, as Baby Loss Awareness Week took place a month ago—and I am pleased and grateful that we are here today. It is extremely encouraging and moving that right hon. and hon. Members have ensured that this important issue has been debated often in recent years, helping to deliver an unmistakable message outside this place about its importance in Parliament, the Department of Health and Social Care and the national health service. Most importantly, that sends a message to bereaved families, letting them know that there are people in this place who truly understand how it feels.

Please forgive me for telling my story today, in as much detail as I dare. It is important to me that my baby’s short story helps to shine a light on what is a really dark situation for many people. “I can see straightaway that something isn’t right”—those are the words that broke my heart and changed my life forever. It was 3 January 2019, and my husband and I were at the routine 20-week scan for our second baby. My first pregnancy had been healthy and straightforward and resulted in our fabulous daughter. At age 42, I had been slightly anxious about my 12-week scan, but happily all tests had come back clear. My midwife encouraged me to birth again at our midwife-led centre, and I was keen to stay healthy in order to do just that.

We had celebrated a low-key but cosy Christmas and new year with family and friends. I felt content and reassured by my kicking baby and wondered what the following year would bring. Three days later, we went for our 20-week scan and would receive the terrible news from the sonographer that our baby had an extremely severe form of spina bifida. I lay on the couch and grabbed my husband’s hand tightly. Tears stung my eyes—not unlike now. When I glanced at him, his eyes were watering, too. We did not dare believe what had just happened.

Just over an hour later, we were sitting in the office at our main hospital, the Royal Cornwall Hospital in Truro, with a wonderful consultant and an incredibly kind bereavement midwife. We were met at reception and taken to a small room and brought some tea. I just knew this was not going to end well, but I did not know what to expect. I was checked again, and any hope we had was extinguished by a slow and silent shake of the head. But my baby was still kicking. So started the most traumatic weekend of my life to date.

We had no idea what would happen next. Our world had started to swim and spiral away, and neither of us knew what questions we should ask.

--- Later in debate ---

[Sarah Owen (Luton North) (Lab)]

I thank and pay tribute to the hon. Member for Truro and Falmouth (Cherilyn Mackrory) for securing this important debate, and also for speaking with such bravery and honesty. It is a real inspiration—she has done Lily proud.

Coronavirus has impacted every part of our lives, often in ways that we did not think or expect. We took things for granted little things, such as holding the hands of loved ones who are in pain or upset, or even those across the political divide. When restrictions were put in place in hospitals for visitors, fathers, partners and support networks in relation to scans for expectant mums, I was not surprised to receive pleas from women in Luton who were saying that they really needed somebody there to support them through their scans and neonatal appointments.

That is especially important to people who have had difficult pregnancies or miscarriages or who have suffered baby loss in the past. Not every scan is one of joy, and the time before a scan can be an incredibly anxious, nervous one, full of dread. Holding someone’s hand during that time is incredibly important. That is why I am so pleased to say that, having worked closely on this issue, the fantastic team at Luton and Dunstable University Hospital was one of the first to enact the new guidance allowing visitors to come to scans with expectant mothers.

As we know, with coronavirus everything is always under review. I really hope that the Government continue to support trusts in enabling that to happen as long as is humanly possible, because it is important. It is not like the films on TV when someone sees two pink lines and then suddenly the film fast-forwards to the very large woman buying lots of baby clothes and then screaming for a couple of minutes, and out pops the baby. For many people, that is not the reality of pregnancy. It is not that simple. Miscarriage and baby loss are part of the pregnancy journey that are often just not talked about. Yet, a quarter of all pregnancies end in miscarriage. If we are to end the stigma, the silence and sometimes the shame, we need to be open and honest.

The first time I miscarried, I was at work. I knew that something was not right, so I booked myself a scan during lunch break. I was by myself then, and they told me that there was no heartbeat. To be honest, what happened next was a bit of a blur, but I still remember the emotional and physical pain as if it was yesterday. I will be perfectly honest: a miscarriage is not like a period. It is incredibly physically and emotionally painful. The second time, we were further along. I was not alone for that scan. It did not make the news any easier, but I cannot describe the difference it made to have my hand held, gently squeezing support to one another.

During these losses, and throughout the pregnancy of my wonderful rainbow baby—the term for a baby born after miscarriage or baby loss—my friends and family were there every step of the way, and held me close to get me through those dark times. But my fear is for all those women who no longer have that support. That is exactly why I urge the Government to hold out for as long as they can to ensure that visitors can come to the scans of expectant mums, and to tackle the cause of the doubling of stillbirths during this lockdown.

I want to pay tribute to the Miscarriage Association. Without its support, I know that myself and thousands of women would still have struggled, and struggled alone. Social media is often a cesspit; but I have to say, for any woman who has miscarried, or is pregnant following miscarriages or baby loss, the Miscarriage Association’s website and forums on Facebook are an oasis of comfort, information and understanding. During this time, I know that we cannot hold the hands of everyone we want to. There are women out there, associations, charities and hospitals doing their best to get us through, and I hope the Government listen to their concerns and work with them so that no woman endures baby loss alone and so that women are no longer an afterthought throughout this pandemic.

[Siobhain McDonagh (in the Chair)]

I have been here 23 years and I have never seen a Doorkeeper distributing tissues to Members during a debate—I thank him. I am sure this is going to be a harrowing debate. There is a limit of about seven and a half minutes on speeches so that everybody can tell us their story.

--- Later in debate ---

[Angela Richardson (Guildford) (Con)]

It is a pleasure to serve under your chairmanship, Ms McDonagh. I congratulate my hon. Friend the Member for Truro and Falmouth (Cherilyn Mackrory) on securing such an important debate, on her moving contribution and on her strength and courage in sharing her story about her loss of baby Lily.

This year will be remembered as a difficult year for so many people, but particularly for those who have lost loved ones—especially a much-longed-for baby. I rise to speak today because my difficult year in relation to baby loss was 2003, which coincided with the SARS outbreak. Stopping in Singapore for a couple of days in February 2003, on our way to introduce our first-born to her New Zealand grandparents, my husband, our baby daughter and I became very ill with a high temperature and a continuous cough. Only a few days later, our baby was coughing up blood and we were straight into A&E, where she was treated for pneumonia for several days. We were not counted in any official statistics, and we were not tested. It could have been any other type of virus that was prevalent at the time, but it was an illness that knocked us for six. It is the most ill I have ever been in my life. I was so ill that I was not well enough to care for my baby. I went on to miscarry in June, September and December of that year.

Although my personal experience is anecdotal, and correlation is not causation, the timing of my experience got me wondering—as we are discussing the effects of long covid and any viral illness—whether a lingering heightened immune response has any bearing on an increased incidence of miscarriages. I would be interested to know of any scientific research, either historical or under way now, that links this issue with repeat miscarriages.

I know that my year of grief was a fundamental tipping point in my life and caused me to re-evaluate everything I thought I knew, believed, cherished and held dear. Being an immigrant to this country, I understand a little about isolation: I have not had time to build extensive networks, and I do not have the deep roots that many people who have grown up here have. I did have my National Childbirth Trust group, and I will never forget how blessed I was that I was busy hosting our regular gathering when I started contracting at 14 weeks, two weeks after we had announced to everybody that we were pregnant again. One friend scooped up my daughter and took her home to look after her, and the other took me to the local doctor. She was with me when my waters broke. Then she took me to A&E and stayed with me through a difficult labour and delivery. I was not prepared for many things, including my milk coming in afterwards—or that, years later, I would have flashbacks.

I asked for a test to be done on that particular miscarriage, because it was further along than the other two. Unfortunately, I received a note from the consultant a couple of weeks later to say that they had not done the test and that the foetus had been taken to be incinerated. As hon. Members have said, it leaves people left wondering what they have done wrong. What could have been done differently? Not having answers is probably one of the most difficult things. I can only imagine how difficult it is for families who have had to endure this situation through lockdown conditions. We need to ensure that support is in place for such families.

By the time our second child arrived, I had been pregnant, almost continually, for 18 months. I have spoken openly about suffering from both perinatal and post-natal depression. The effects of baby loss are profound and long-lasting. The passage of time has softened my grief, and my mother always said you can’t put an old head on young shoulders, but if I can use today’s important debate to send a message to women who are coping with baby loss during this time of extra concern and difficulty with covid, I would say this: be kind to yourself, and be patient. Do not be afraid to ask for help from your frontline healthcare providers, and get any support that you need with mental health.

Taking the opportunity to tell our stories, as we are doing today, is a wonderful thing that women can do for each other. It lets others know that they are not alone, especially at this time, when we are more concerned about isolation and loneliness than ever before.

[Siobhain McDonagh (in the Chair)]

I apologise to the hon. Member for Sheffield, Hallam (Olivia Blake), but I am going to ask the Member speaking for the Scottish National party, the hon. Member for North Ayrshire and Arran (Patricia Gibson), to come in at this point, because she has to get on to a special flight. I apologise for not having told the hon. Member for Sheffield, Hallam in advance.