Almost 12 years ago, I gave birth to my first baby, a daughter named Elodie. Although my partner Mickael and I held her in our arms and had photos taken with her, there is no official record of her birth. The only document I have is the receipt for her ashes from the crematorium where we held her funeral. As far as the world is concerned, Elodie never existed; she was not a person. That’s because she was stillborn at 23 weeks and six days gestation, just shy of the UK’s legal age of viability.
‘My body ached for my missing baby’
For thousands of women who, like me, have suffered a stillbirth or late miscarriage before 24 weeks, the realisation that there will
