I had two emails of real support last week. One was from a Delivery Suite sister who is teaching on a midwifery study day this week and the other from a student midwife in her final year.

Both expressed total disbelief and horror at the lack of care and insight that led to Jessica's death and both said that knowing of Jessica's story and my views on the government's response would help them make midwifery a safer place for mothers.

I was also thanked, in no uncertain terms and not for the first time, for telling Jessica's story so publicly, which is particularly reassuring. As I'm not a naturally outgoing person and am usually rather more privacy seeking, telling her story over and over again makes me feel a bit over exposed.

However, my mantra is still, "If, by retelling her story, I prompt one exhausted midwife or hard-pressed health visitor to look down at a sick new mum and think 'hang on, I wonder if this is septicaemia', then it will be worth it."

I'm still mulling over the suggestion that I 'guest lecture' to student midwives - maybe I would if directly asked to.

Hopefully there's little doubt that I want to make a difference to future families' lives, but one thought has been buzzing around in my head for many many months.

Should I set up a Charitable Trust in Jessica's name rather than just a website called 'Jessica's trust' which is more a reference to that which was betrayed?

If I did, what could it do? I have several ideas, but I'd love your suggestions. Answers in the comments or by email rather than on a postcard, please.

Tuesday was an unexpected day. Being stuck at Jessica's father, Tim and stepmother, Marian's house with no car, I was going to look for a hire car to get us home and fill a temporary transportation problem, but a message left on my home answering service which was texted through to my mobile while we were all on a walk along the Thames near Marlow changed my plans.

It was from a Sky News reporter who wanted to 'flag something up with me'. There's only one reason that the press have ever wanted to talk to me, so I had a vague idea, but wasn't sure exactly what it was. I found a small pocket of mobile reception and called her back.

"Oh, thanks for returning my call, I'm not even sure if you're the right Ben Palmer so I do apologise... were you married to Jessica Palmer?"

With identity established she went on to tell me that a report was out which highlighted the fact that Midwifery Support Workers are being used to work in place of fully qualified midwives - breaking a promise made by Patricia Hewitt, and that she was aware from the news coverage of the Inquest into Jessica's death that a midwife had been lacking in her level of care.

I expanded on the facts she knew, and she asked whether Sky could come and film an interview for the five o'clock news. Always keen to champion mothers and highlight the appalling care that they receive I told her where to come to.

Within an hour, reporter and cameraman had arrived and were introducing themselves. We did an interview in the light rain and shot some 'background' pieces on the village green with Tim's dog, who was totally bemused and wanted to go for his normal walk in the other direction.

Sure enough, come five o'clock, Chuckie and I were on the first domestic story in the programme. I know that the piece was watched in Portugal and Fuerte Ventura as well as here, and I just hope that it helps highlight the danger that mothers giving birth are falling deeper and deeper into with each broken promise and penny scrimped.

“Is anybody listening?” I sometimes wonder. Do people think I'm just a sad old widower having a rant?

Yes, I've ranted to myself and to my friends in the past, but I've come through that. I know what childbed fever means, and I know the ecstatic highs of birth followed post haste by the devastation of death. I know the roller coaster of fear, anger, despair, self doubt and guilt that follows it, and I know the utter waste and needlessness of loss of life in this way, but am I not explaining it?

The NHS machine has treated Jessica's death as a statistic, collateral damage maybe, but has it learned? Have we as parents learned?

There really is no reason at all for women to die from infection after childbirth. It can stop and I hope it will stop, but first we have to accept that it is happening. Jessica's story is not just a sad tale worth a moment's attention and maybe a brief tear, it is an opportunity to reflect and to drag ourselves out of the dark ages.

Universally, the reaction to her death has been the same, whether in her best friends, a doctor or an internet-using car builder, but that isn't enough; we actually have to do something in the face of our doubts that anything can change.

If the end of childbed fever meant years of expensive research, new wonder drugs and hi-tech equipment I could understand the 'nothing will change' mentality, but none of that is needed. The research was done years ago by Ignaz Semmelweis, the drugs needed are ordinary antibiotics, and the hi-tech equipment? A thermometer. The only difference between his time and now are the hygiene standards that luckily prevent the epidemics of old. Otherwise it's still exactly the same old disease.

So, know that childbed fever is still real, believe that it doesn't have to be, and understand that yes – it could happen to you.

I wrote to my MP a while back, and she tabled a written question in Parliament, addressed to the Health Secretary, Patricia Hewitt:

“To ask the Secretary of State for Health what the death rate per million maternities from puerperal sepsis and other forms of septicaemia was in each year since 1999-2000; and if she will make a statement.”

The answer came from Ivan Lewis MP, Parliamentary Under-Secretary, Dept of Health.

“Deaths from puerperal sepsis are very rare. The Department-sponsored confidential enquiry into maternal deaths 'Why Mothers Die' report for 2000-02 only identified five women who died of puerperal sepsis in the United Kingdom for the three years 2000 to 2002. This gives a maternal death rate of 2.5 per million maternities. The next report is due to be published later this year and will contain the figures for the three year period 2003-05.”

Well: if you discount the eight further deaths from sepsis before term or after caesarian, yes it's five. Wait, he didn't say that, he said “only...five women who died.” Oh silly me, getting all worked up about dead mothers – it's OK really after all, it's only five.

If you look at the years since 1984 - the last time no deaths from sepsis were recorded - 30 women have died from this easily treatable illness. If you look at pre-term and post-caesarians as well, add another 59.

But it doesn't matter, does it Mr Lewis? It's only 89 families without a mother; don't trouble Patsy with it, because each family has only lost one mother, and any statistician will say that it doesn't get much better than that.

The full answer to the original question, according to 'Why Mothers Die?', for the period 2000-02 is 13 deaths making a rate of 6.5 per million maternities.

So; the beds are made and the press release is finished. Thanks to a very kind man, David Standard, who's Head of Media Relations at Irwin Mitchell, my weekend draft was honed and finalised, and is now on its way out to journalists with a maternity/healthcare interest.

It's been a really encouraging day for the campaign, I've received another slew of messages of support, and one very kind offer of a donation which I've put on hold for the time being. Mental note to self: investigate charitable status and set up a bank account.

As I told the individual concerned, what Jessica's trust really needs is wider awareness and more signatures. Thanks to the Internet, running costs are still minuscule, even if man hours spent is escalating. It probably won't stay that way, so must watch own pocket.

For now I really need you to sign and let all of your friends and contacts know about the website and petition so that they can sign too.

What I hope is that people learn to look out for the tell-tale signs of childbed fever themselves, before it is too late, in the same way that parents are told to look for the signs of meningitis in their babies.

There is no need for anyone to die of this horrific and easily treatable illness. If I can help to save lives by telling Jessica's story, then our very dark cloud may have a silver lining after all.

In a brief moment of silence, I can sit at my computer. My children, Harry and Emily, are devouring post-party goodies, so I can make a start with some work, except I'm blogging instead.

Jessica's trust has been up for about four weeks so far, as has the petition - so I want to take stock. Thousands of site visits, tens of thousands of page impressions and even more 'hits' on the site, but what does that mean? Currently 2,279 e-signatures on the petition. It's a lot, and I'm really pleased, but its not enough!

The number of signatures could be a measure of awareness achieved, but it's not because many, many more people are 'meaning to sign' but haven't yet, even though they know about Jessica and they know about childbed fever. So come on - sign! Then it may be a measure of awareness after all.

Oh, and don't forget that you need to click the link in the email you'll receive from No.10, or your signature won't be added.

Finally, please help spread the word. It does help, and it is saving lives. More on that another time.

Well, finally. I've been meaning to start a blog here for a while, but haven't had a chance to kick it off. There's much to write, so hopefully there'll be something worth reading - just give me enough time.