When I lost my baby, in April last year, I wrote an article about the process of ‘Medical Management’ (the procedure I had to undergo) as I’d never heard of it before. It wasn’t until I had to go through it myself that friends then told me their experience with baby loss. When the article went out I realised just how many people go through it on a daily basis, and just how little it’s talked about.
In November, I was approached by an actress who had read it, and asked if she could perform it at a Mothers' festival in Manchester. I was a little reticent at first as it’s such a personal story. However, after I’d agreed and gone to watch her performance, I realised the impact of my story and just how important it is to talk about it and it was from then that I began to craft my Edinburgh show, using the structure of the article, which had taken months to put together as it was still very raw

The one thing that had come from readers, was how they had been moved, but how they had enjoyed the humour in the piece, and being a comedian, I was in a unique position to be able to tell my story using that humour. Comedy is such an important genre. Yes you can tell jokes to a (hopefully appreciative) crowd, but to be able to tell a tragic story, using comedy is a challenge, but has more of an impact, and can hopefully reach more of an audience. I don’t think any subject is out of bounds in comedy, if it’s done respectfully and in the correct tone.
My mum’s first reaction, when I told her what I was doing, was “How on earth are you going to make that funny?” (Except with a few more swear words). That was the initial worry, but I knew I could do it. The tragic event wasn’t funny and never will be, but the events surrounding the build-up, and afterwards were and that’s what the show concentrated on. It was an Edinburgh show, advertised in the comedy section, and so therefore that is what I had to do, write a comedy show. I was worried people would think I was being flippant, but I was never going to do that, this awful thing had happened to me, and so I was never going to make light of the event itself.
Initially I had too much material, which is a great problem to have. I had to cut it down. I’d been to a talk with Jimmy McGovern earlier in the year, and he said, with regards to editing, “If you don’t miss it, then it was never meant to be there.” And that was invaluable advice as I realised that there were bits I had added in, just to bulk out the show, and once I’d taken them out, I had the decent bones of the show, and I could then start looking at it for areas to put more jokes in.
The section about the event itself was hard to tackle. I didn’t want to give too much detail but there had to be enough to inform. And the responsibility, knowing that’d I’d probably get people in the audience that had had a shared experience, was incredibly daunting as I didn’t want to upset, or offend them, I just wanted to share my own story. I had a responsibility to them, but more importantly to myself. If I was going to be talking about the event on a daily basis I had to make sure that I wasn’t going to make myself ill in the process. In this case less is more, and it seemed to work.
The feedback, and the reviews were very positive, and I’ve had people thanking me for talking about it. So it’s been a really worthwhile experience. I’m just wondering how the hell I top it for next year!
Lou has also written about her experience for the Guardian and spoke about it on BBC Radio 4's Woman's Hour - Listen here
The Woman's Hour website has links to organisations which provide support for miscarriage and baby and infant loss
Lou Conran is a graduate of our Comedy Room writer development scheme and on the BBC's New Talent Hotlist 2017
