About us
After my partner and I experienced a miscarriage in 2026 I wrote 'In Another Life' as a type of self-therapy.
We struggled to find much in the way of aftercare, and found that Tommy’s was, for us, the most helpful place to find resources and information relating to our situation
They really helped us through an awful time
In an effort to give something back and hopefully help others with similar experiences, I decided to release the single and donate 100% of the proceeds directly to Tommy’s
'In Another Life' is currently available in limited quantities on CD, exclusively at JackStock 2026
'In Another Life' will be released on all major streaming and download platforms on 21/12/2026
Our Story..
When we found out we where pregnant we were shocked, we weren’t ‘trying’ for a baby but we weren’t exactly doing anything to stop it and we always had the mindset of if it happens, it happens. 22nd April 2026, the day our lives changed forever, 2 positive pregnancy tests, we were going to have a baby, going to be Mum and Dad. We found out everything that we had to do, filled out all the forms, downloaded all the pregnancy apps, Amy quit smoking cold turkey, stopped eating and drinking everything you’re not supposed to, started taking all the extra vitamins, drinking enough water and just trying to do everything we could at this point to care for this baby.
Our first midwife appointment at 8 weeks pregnant happened to fall on our 12 year anniversary. It all started to feel a bit real sat in that Doctors room meeting the lady that would be with us through all of this. It’s overwhelming all the information that’s thrown at you and all the forms you sign along with blood tests and scans you agree to. By this point all the typical symptoms are there; nausea, tender breasts, acid reflux and fatigue but overall the midwife is happy, she tells us we’re a very low risk pregnancy and she’ll see us at our 16 week appointment.
A few weeks later we’re on our way to our ‘12 week’ scan, although by our calculations we are 13 weeks pregnant. We have all the usual questions spinning around in our head but ultimately we’re just hoping for a healthy, happy baby on that scan. This is it, the day it all becomes real, the day we finally get to meet our baby for the first time, the slight panic of all the things we are going to have to sort out and organise after this. We had decided not to buy, plan or sort anything before this scan because we are aware that anything can happen. Both Amy’s mum and sister have been through miscarriages so it wasn’t an alien idea to us but everything appears to be going smoothly so far, Amy has all the pregnancy symptoms and nothing out of the ordinary has hinted at this being the case. We get called in, it’s quite a dark room with a bed and the ultrasound machine, the midwife explains how it all works and what is going to happen. She puts the jelly on Amy’s belly and is looking around, it doesn’t take long before she said “I think we’re going to have to do an internal scan today”. Everything gets shuffled around and she explains how that works and starts scanning again, the silence starts to be unbearable and we just hold onto each others hands. We can see on the screen this big black shape and she’s doing all these clicks and measurements, “How far along are you today Amy?” We think 13 weeks today.
“I’m so sorry, I can’t find a heartbeat and baby is only measuring at 5weeks and 6days.”
After that everything goes a bit blank, like we’ve blacked it out, flipped into survival mode and just want to curl up in a ball and the ground to swallow us up. She went to get a second opinion but couldn’t find anyone to do it, she told us that although baby had only made 5 weeks and 6 days Amys body didn’t know and everything else was showing 13weeks. We are sent to a ‘quiet room’ while she did some paperwork, neither of us really have any idea how long we were in there but she came in and said we had another scan booked for in a weeks time “just in case” and sent us home with a number to ring “in case of emergency”.
We were expecting to walk out all full of joy, excitement and pictures of our baby that we can’t wait to share with everyone. Instead, we’re walking out through a waiting room of still pregnant women, numb, fighting back the tears and knowing that our baby had been dead for 7 weeks. We make it to the outside of the hospital front door and the flood gates open, both internally and externally, we’re both fighting the tears and blubbering and it’s pouring down with rain. How poetic. We get home and just spend hours together in silence staring at a scan picture of a life that should have been. Lots of tears, lots of cuddles and lots of Amy spurting out random questions and Jack replying “Don’t worry about it, I’ll handle it. I’ve got you” without a clue what that was going to look like.
We’re sent home with no information on what to expect, just a number to call if we think it’s an emergency and a scan booked in, assuming in case Amy doesn’t miscarry naturally? The next few days are tough, Jack’s working nights and we’re both left with nothing but our minds to keep us company. Amy feels like a period is due, she’s cramping and spotting and we’re constantly googling to try and find any hint of information that we can find about what is coming.
It’s 7pm and Amy’s at home on her own when the miscarriage starts, she immediately text Jack and he came home from work and she rings her sister to see if she agrees that this is it starting. She agrees it is and sends love and luck but her miscarriages where completely different so couldn’t really tell us what to expect. A lot happens that night, it is honestly so much worse than we thought and had tried to prepare ourselves for, it’s scary and traumatic. We’re both just sitting in the bathroom for hours, Amy on the toilet and Jack on the floor. At 11pm it’s decided that we can’t do this at home on our own, starting to panic, we decide it’s time to call that number we had been given. By midnight we’re in A&E and if we’re being honest, when we were told to come in we weren’t really expecting to be sat in the standard waiting room. Everyone else in this waiting room just looks calm and Amy feels like everyone is watching her, looking at us while she’s sitting there losing our baby. The cramps are coming and going but they are intense, Amy is sat on the edge of her seat, clutching onto her hot water bottle and Jacks hand. We later find out that Amy was also tachycardic with an average heart rate of 140bpm. After spending some time on some sort of A&E ward, by 2.45am we get transferred to the Early Pregnancy Unit. Amy’s having all the necessary observations taken and speaking to a doctor the best she can because the pain is getting stronger and there’s no gaps in between anymore, while Jack is trying to give as much information as he can. She tells us that she’s going to get some bits and will be back to do a proper examination. It’s just gone 3am and we’re both sat there, devastated, crying, because we’ve just been told that Amy has just passed Baby on the toilet.
They left us alone for a few minutes to process everything that had gone on, they asked Amy how the pain was now and it was the first time she had acknowledged that it was gone, not even a cramp. They explained that she had passed everything at once, apparently they call it a ‘mermaids purse’. We have been told “it all looked very clean and good but as routine procedure we have sent it all off for testing” and then that we can go home when we’re ready and to take a pregnancy test in 3 weeks time, if it’s positive to give them a call. That’s it.
We decided to hang around for half an hour and glad we did because it wasn’t long before Amy was hugging the toilet. Jack called the nurse and she told us it’s normal to feel sick while the cervix shrinks back down again. That was the first time we’d really stopped to think what had just happened. It wasn’t a ‘heavy period’ like everything on the internet would have you believe, it’s basically a mini labour. We’re both in shock by it all, traumatised, sad and numb. We leave the hospital and are home by 5.30am.
Boyd Panteney-Lyttle. 18.06.2026. 0300hrs.
The next few weeks are incredibly difficult, we both go through phases of not just sadness but extreme sadness with uncontrollable sobbing, and then stages of overwhelming anger of why, especially when we felt like we did everything right.
We’re both working through it in our own ways; Amy turned to journaling and decided to just write everything down as a way of processing all that we had just been through. She also started taking part in the Tommy’s Wellbeing After Miscarriage Programme and found that extremely helpful both mentally and physically. Jack turned straight to his music and wrote a song called ‘In Another Life’ to process everything he’s felt throughout our experience. He intends to release it as a single on what would have been our due date, the 21st December 2026, and has set up a page on Work For Good to donate any money the song makes to Tommy’s in the hopes of giving something back and potentially helping others in our situation not feel quite so lost or alone.
It’s been just over 2 months since losing Boyd. We’re both different people since. We still have good days and bad days, certain things still trigger us and to be honest that is probably never going to go away. Things don’t completely overwhelm us in an all-consuming way anymore but we do still catch ourselves shedding tears. We don’t know if we will end up getting pregnant again, or if we’ll have a baby in the end, we’re aware we’ll never be fully ‘ready’ and if it does happen it will come with even more fears and worries after having such a traumatic experience the first time, but we’ll just have to wait and see. It’s only been two months after all.