Nicola’s right to highlight the trauma of losing a child

THERE is a picture of Nicola Sturgeon, taken in January 2011 at a 40th anniversary memorial service for the 66 Rangers fans killed in the Ibrox Disaster. She looks pale and slightly drawn, dressed in black and with her eyes downcast.

It would be five years before we would learn that days before the picture was taken, the then-deputy first minister had suffered a miscarriage.

Every woman’s grief over the loss of a baby is different. Heartbreaking in a million shattering ways, and deeply private.

Which is why I admired her so much for talking about it, describing it as a ‘painful experience’ and saying she was speaking out in ‘the hope that it might challenge some of the assumptions and judgments that are still made about women – especially in politics – who don’t have children’.

This week, Miss Sturgeon went further. Asked again about the experience on the TV show Loose Women, the First Minister spoke openly, saying: ‘I feel really strongly about removing the stigma around miscarriage.

‘People don’t talk about being pregnant until after three months. The whole implication of that is if you miscarry you keep it to yourself.’

This is absolutely true, and has always seemed cruel to me. So much privacy and secrecy in those first three months – when, statistically, most miscarriages happen – only for a horrific loss which must also be kept secret, adding to the pain of the loss.

As Miss Sturgeon pointed out: ‘It’s a difficult thing to go through, but when you can’t talk to anybody apart from your partner, I think that makes it more difficult.’

Why is it, even in 2019, that miscarriage is still taboo? While menopause, marvellously, is having a bit of a moment, with many women coming

forward to share their experiences and badger GPs and employers to become more understanding of the symptoms, miscarriage remains hidden away. A private grief – a shame almost – that must be endured alone.

The lack of understanding around miscarriage is huge. You need only take a look at the number of guides on the internet entitled ‘what not to say to someone who has had a miscarriage’ to realise the ignorance that surrounds it.

Remarks vary from the misguided to the downright crass, from ‘it wasn’t meant to be’ (well-meaning yet meaningless) to ‘it wasn’t a real baby’ (for the mother-to-be, it was), to ‘you’ll be fine in a few days’ (how on earth do you know?).

PERHAPS that is why miscarriage leave, giving women paid time away from work after losing a baby, which Miss Sturgeon also discussed this week, is so controversial. Yet it really shouldn’t be. We have paid leave for the loss of parents, spouses, children and siblings. Why not unborn babies?

‘I think there should be much greater understanding and society generally should try to adapt a bit more,’ Miss Sturgeon said.

In New Zealand, plans are already afoot to introduce miscarriage leave for working women. How heartening – and for women struggling how compassionate – it would be if the UK followed suit.

When she spoke out in 2016, Miss Sturgeon said that had the miscarriage not happened, whether or not she would have become First Minister was an ‘unanswerable question’.

It’s a stark and haunting reminder that while a miscarriage may happen quickly, and in secret, the impact on the woman who has lost her baby is something that may last a lifetime.