When Shriya Pancholi discovered she was pregnant for the first time in October 2025, she and her husband were overwhelmed with excitement.
They had always loved children and expected starting a family to be part of their future. But despite her medical background and career in pharmaceutical science, miscarriage was something Shriya had barely considered, or been taught about.
“I come from a medical background, so I'm very aware that getting pregnant isn't always as simple as trying once and it magically happening,” she said. “Despite all of that, complications or miscarriage never even crossed my mind as a possibility.”
Her pregnancy initially appeared to be progressing normally and then, at nine weeks, she began spotting. Shriya searched online for answers and found that spotting could sometimes be common during pregnancy, which gave her hope.
She had also grown up surrounded by a large family but had never heard anyone openly discuss pregnancy complications. “All I'd ever known was people announcing a pregnancy and then having a baby,” she says. “That was the usual cycle. Simple, right? But not for everyone.”
She contacted her midwife, who advised her to monitor the spotting. But Shriya pushed for an emergency scan, after which a midwife told her that the baby hasn’t grown. Shriya was asked to return for another scan the following week and told that she should try not to worry because “miracles can happen”.
The couple left unsure whether they had lost their baby. A few days later, Shriya began severely bleeding.
‘I felt prepared for what was coming’
Fortunately, Shriya had recently reconnected with an old primary-school friend who had experienced a miscarriage herself.
After hearing about the scan, her friend gave her practical advice about what to expect, including which pads to buy and how to protect her mattress. She also explained that miscarriage could be emotionally and mentally difficult and reminded Shriya that everyone's experience was different.
“She suggested getting into the shower as soon as possible and staying there until I felt ready to come out,” Shriya recalls.
“It was the best advice I had received.”
The timing proved crucial. “I felt prepared for what was coming and I genuinely believe that's helped me heal in the long term,” she says. “If I hadn't known what to expect, I think I'd be in a much worse place now.”
While the physical experience was traumatic, having someone explain what could happen and reassure her that she could simply take the time she needed made a significant difference.
‘It’s a significant step, but only the start’
Speaking about the inclusion of miscarriage in bereavement leave, Shriya welcomed the move as an important step towards recognising pregnancy loss, while stressing that more needs to be done.
Shriya said, “I think it’s huge. It’s really significant because it raises awareness and acknowledges that miscarriage exists and, unfortunately, is so common. But I also believe it’s only the start.
“Bereavement leave is still unpaid, which I found quite surprising. If it were another health condition, for example something as serious as cancer, you would expect there to be paid leave. So, while I think it’s a really positive step and shows there is now an acknowledgement of pregnancy loss, there’s still a much bigger change that needs to happen.
“I think it was great to see miscarriage recognised, but, like many others, I was disappointed that the leave is unpaid. If you’re unwell and off work for five days, you can be entitled to sick pay, so it’s surprising that bereavement following pregnancy loss is treated differently.”
Breaking a South Asian taboo
For Shriya, the experience exposed how little she had known about pregnancy loss.
She believes the silence around miscarriage can be particularly difficult within some South Asian families, where menstruation, pregnancy and reproductive health have traditionally been treated as private subjects.
“We just got on with it,” she says of growing up.
Although attitudes are changing, Shriya believes more needs to be done to ensure younger generations understand pregnancy and miscarriage.
“Unless knowledge about pregnancy and miscarriage is passed on to younger generations, attitudes won't change enough,” she says. “There's still this instinct to protect young people from anything difficult. We don't always tell them about the things that can go wrong.”
She also highlights the influence of myths and superstitions surrounding pregnancy.
“I heard stories from relatives about things like, ‘You have to sit a certain way because our grandmothers said sitting cross-legged could harm the baby,’ or that certain foods were too ‘hot’ for the body,” she says.
Shriya says such beliefs can fuel anxiety and self-blame, with women questioning whether something they did caused their loss. “You start thinking, ‘Was I too stressed? Did I not drink enough water? Is that why it happened?’”
She says these traditions, passed down through generations, can still shape how women understand pregnancy and miscarriage today and is determined to use her experience to encourage more open conversations about miscarriage.
She encourages women who are trying to conceive or have recently discovered they are pregnant to seek information from trusted sources.
