Remember those precious days

No one knows what this feels like except parents who have been through it, said the news reporter after announcing the death of Gordon and Sarah Brown's baby, Jennifer Jane.

How poignantly true. Having cuddled our baby James until he breathed his last breath three and a half years ago, myself and my husband have been part of a small and sad club of parents who often have to grieve in silence behind closed doors.

Now, tragically, the Chancellor and his wife will have to do the same. The death of a child is a taboo subject among people who have not experienced it. The outpourings of sympathy among the Browns' relatives, close friends and the media will bring great comfort but unless you have been through a similar experience you have no idea how the grieving parents feel.

They may want to talk about the last few hours, minutes, seconds in detail and then replay that over and over again - few friends or relatives can stomach such a heart-rending narrative. The first few days and weeks are ones of shock when crying can come easy given the right shoulder to cry on.

Much sympathy at this time is with the mother who carried the baby and has been seen to have a bond from initial conception. But fathers hurt too. Despite Gordon Brown's rough exterior, he is not just Sarah's biggest comforter but is also in need of comfort. And the Browns will have to get used to sympathisers spouting forth the most common phrase used in times of desperate grief - "it gets easier".

Yes, Sarah and Gordon, it does. But right now you don't want to know that or be told that. You need to wallow in your grief - not a terribly British thing to do but there is no rule book for when you lose a child. And if I had taken my own advice and let myself cry in front of all the well-wishers I might have been able to get rid of some of the anger that is still inside me. I tried too hard to act "normal".

My make-up was in place and I was dressed from the moment I left hospital empty-handed. Unless a tactile friend put a loving arm around my shoulders, I didn't shed a tear in public.

It may take weeks or months for Sarah and Gordon Brown to feel even relatively normal. And normal could mean being able to cope with the phone ringing, the post arriving (knowing that it is not bearing another goodwill message) and day-to-day work problems. And that's okay. There is no policy written for these circumstances and the media and public should not expect business as usual.

But then what happens after that. Months later, everyone has forgotten that you have lost a child. It is no longer front-page news and the friends and well-wishers don't immediately ask how the grieving parents are. They are relieved because they feel time has passed enough that you won't break down in tears in front of them. It is then that you need to keep the memory of your baby alive, and that can be the hardest part.

The fact that Gordon and Sarah are in the media eye may count as a blessing here. No one will be allowed to forget that Jennifer Jane was their first child even when, and I hope, that they are blessed with more children. They won't have to explain to the dentist or post office counter person that they have just one child, seen visibly squirming in its pram, when in fact they have had two children.

I and my husband have had three children - our third child arrived 11 months after James died - and yet if asked in the street how many children I have, I cross my fingers and say two. Why upset the unsuspecting lady at the bus stop and tell her my life history which includes baby James, his brief life and death?

Jennifer Jane lived for 10 days. In the Brown household eventually that will be celebrated and her photo should be put where it can be seen. Let them hold onto those precious days and replay those moments to all who will listen. Now and in the future.

? Baby James died in his parents arms on 26 June 1998. Keely and David Harrison also have two daughters, Laura, five, and Emily, two.