By Sam Naughton
When my baby died at ten weeks pregnant, my entire world had shattered in the space of a few seconds. My husband Ben and I had already named our baby Willow and we had already started imagining the life we thought we were going to have with them alongside my elder daughter Ruby. Then suddenly we were sitting in a scan room after I had experienced bleeding, desperately hoping for reassurance, when the sonographer went quiet and I knew before anybody spoke that something was terribly wrong.
A few moments later we were told there was no heartbeat anymore. It’s impossible to properly describe the shock of hearing those words when only days earlier you were imagining birthdays, Christmas mornings and family holidays with your child. I remember walking back through the hospital feeling physically numb while the world outside carried on normally, all while inside I felt like I could barely breathe.
What stayed with me afterwards was not only the grief itself, but how invisible it felt. Miscarriage is still so often spoken about clinically, but emotionally it felt like bereavement because that is exactly what it was for us. Willow was our baby and we were grieving a future we had already emotionally attached ourselves to.
When I became pregnant again shortly afterwards, I did not feel excitement in the way people expected, instead I just felt fear. Every time I went to the bathroom I was terrified I would see blood again, and every scan appointment felt like something to survive rather than celebrate. I remember sitting in waiting rooms surrounded by celebration packages, heartbeat bears and excited conversations while internally convincing myself I was about to receive devastating news all over again.
When my son Alby was eventually born safely, I felt enormous relief, but I also couldn’t stop thinking about all the women I had met who were quietly carrying miscarriage, fertility struggles, trauma and anxiety while pretending they were coping because they felt they had no choice.
That experience changed the course of my life, and soon after I left my corporate career and founded Cocoon because I wanted to create the kind of compassionate support I desperately needed myself. What began as pregnancy and women’s wellbeing support has since expanded within our clinics into broader diagnostics and preventative healthcare after I realised how many people were struggling to access earlier answers around their health. Most recently, we also launched Cocoon At Home which brings clinician-led blood testing directly into people’s homes across the UK.
Losing Willow will always be part of me and there will always be moments where I stop and think about the life we imagined with them, but helping other women now gives that pain a sense of purpose. Seeing women walk into Cocoon feeling frightened or alone and leave feeling reassured and understood is honestly one of the most meaningful things I’ve ever experienced.
Sam Naughton is the Founder and CEO of Cocoon Healthcare, which operates two clinics in Harrogate offering preventative healthcare, diagnostics, pregnancy and women’s health services. Cocoon has also recently launched Cocoon At Home, bringing clinician-led blood testing directly into people’s homes across the UK. For more information, visit www.Cocoon-Hgt.com.
