This was the loneliest I had felt during our two years of being under the care of fertility services.

'Birthdays in Gilead', a poem.

I was told the news no Mum-to-be wants to hear, “there is no heartbeat”.

I was left on a treatment bed on my own as partners can't come up to the wards due to Covid.

A few days later I received a phone call from the hospital who explained that the miscarriage was due to a partial molar pregnancy.

I now wish that I had asked more about it, whether they could tell what sex it was, that sort of thing. That is the thing that stays with me - the not knowing.

Even though it happened so long ago I still feel the pain even now.

Nothing is the same now that those dreams have gone away.