Four years ago today, a good mother died unnecessarily from an archaic illness. The world may not have noticed immediately, but the three year old boy crying in his bed, the six day old girl feeding in her father's arms and the grieving widower did.

Together the three of us have kicked, screamed and cried at more than one time or another, not necessarily in synchronisation.

We are now building a new life for ourselves but a few things haven't changed in the years that have past: we don't like what happened, we miss Jessica and we don't want another son, daughter or husband to live through what we have.

All three of us, to the extent of the understanding that we each have, want to do what we can to prevent another mother's death from childbed fever, but we need your help.

On this fourth anniversary, we would like you to tell four (or more) people, who don't already know, about Jessica's Trust, what childbed fever is and what the symptoms of childbed fever are.

Please ask them to do the same as well. Thank you.

Ben, Harry and Emily. x

I had lunch with two of Jessica's girlfriends today. Soup and garlic bread in the glorious sunshine, and really nice to see them both.

We were talking about Jessica and her trust, and in the course of the conversation I fetched a copy of Saving Mother's Lives 2003-2005 to illustrate a point. Then something I had looked at again and again jumped out and smacked me in the face.

In those three years, the leading direct cause of maternal death was thrombosis/thromboembolism with 41 deaths. The second highest place was tied, 18 deaths apiece, between pre-eclampsia/eclampsia and Genital Tract Sepsis. (=childbed fever/puerperal fever/puerperal sepsis)

Why is it that pregnant mothers are told about, warned about and aware of pre-eclampsia (some antenatal classes are especially good at letting you know it's a danger, even if you're not totally sure what it is) but nobody tells you about childbed fever, even though it is just as much of a danger?

After an involuntary shiver, they agreed to join me in trying to change that.

Harry and Emily love art. They love SMart and SMarteenies as well, and regularly watch more CBBC than CBeebies now, often catching Newsround. However, I don't know if they saw the coverage of Mark Speight's death on the programme.

The coverage, which I also missed, has evoked much sentiment and anger, I read. Why is this? Do we think that children cannot cope with death? Must we shield them from All That Is Bad?

What then when it happens closer to home? How will they cope with it?

It is important for children to understand the process of life, of aging and of death - but we can teach them this without instilling fear and uncertainty, without the gore and trauma, and without the stigma of suicide in this particular case. Which is what I understand the BBC did.

It can't be better to say nothing, even when they notice that a presenter has left their favourite program without saying goodbye - that would be too big a betrayal of their love and confidence.

Children are wiser than we sometimes credit them for, and they need to understand, but in a way that makes them feel safe and loved - even if that means we do have to face up to our own fears and insecurities.

There are only two certainties in this life, and children really don't need to know about tax just yet - that's too cruel.

Inquiry into deaths of three new mothers - Telegraph

Necrotising Fasciitis is most commonly caused by Group A Streptococcus, which is also the most common cause of Childbed Fever. It's a pity the article doesn't make the link and say that's what it is, but 'flesh-eating bacteria' sounds nastier, doesn't it?

We just had a lovely weekend away, and drove back to London, in heavy traffic, in time for tea. The trouble was, Emily and Harry were so worn out from all the fun that they slept most of the way back.

Roll on to bedtime, and Harry can't sleep. An hour of requests for a cup of milk, a footstep here etc etc, and suddenly it became a little sob from the top of the stairs, so I went up.

There he was, sitting on the step with his two photographs of Jessica laid neatly side by side; the ones that travel with him, and always sit beside his bed.

'I just want to talk about Mummy.'

'OK darling, of course we can. What would you like to talk about?'

'Why did Mummy die? What is an infection anyway? Why do people die too early? How did the doctors know she was dead?'

I tried to field the questions as best I could, in suitable language, without causing extra alarm, worry or distress, but still they came.

'What medicine did they give Mummy? How did she actually die? What other question would be a good one to ask, Daddy?'

I can't lie to Harry about what happened, he has a right to know. But not at six years old, surely? I can't even tell him that all of the answers lie in four lever arch files, each three inches or so thick, full of medical notes, charts, statements, legal and medical analysis and argument - he'll want to read it, and then he'll get angry when I don't let him.

All I can do is promise him that the doctors did everything they could to save his Mummy, after she was admitted to A&E and once in Intensive Care. This reassures him, even if his curiousity isn't satisfied.

One day he's going to ask about before she went to hospital, and he's going to be so angry.

'There's nothing we can do to bring Mummy back, Harry, but that doesn't mean we have to like it.'

'What's Jessica's trust, Daddy?'

'It's Daddy's work - trying to stop other Mummy's dying like yours did.'

'What is child fever, anyway?'

'Childbed Fever? It's what Mummy died of. It's an infection that can kill you after you have a baby.'

'Why Daddy? Why did God want Mummy to die? He controls everything, so he shouldn't have let her die.'

I wish I knew all the answers, like Harry expects me to.

For the last two weeks we've been without our nanny, who's on leave. In the past, being without help for this amount of time would have filled me with fear, dread and at times depression.

For the first time since Jessica died I feel I am coping. Maybe it's because both children are at school/nursery during the weekday, but I don't think that's the extent. Possibly I've graduated as a Mum (albeit with a very basic level of qualification) or possibly it's because I also feel I'm able to help do something about the terrible condition that killed our wife and mother. Something, anything that prevents another's death is good.

Children's bedtime tonight was prompt and relatively struggle free, but Emily interrupted our bedtime rituals with, 'Daddy, I really miss Carly [our nanny] and Mummy.'

"We'll see Carly again soon, darling, and ..."

"But I still miss Mummy, Daddy."

"... we know we can't see Mummy, but we can look at her photograph, because she's safe in Heaven now. Mummy doesn't want you to be sad, Emily."

"Oww. But I reeeally miss my Mummy. I want to see her now, Daddy."

Even when they're without tears, these conversations leave me in no doubt as to why I want to start the ball of change rolling.

I've just been alerted to a Woman's Hour discussion on childbed fever this morning. I listened to a recording of it on the BBC website.

The author of a new book, The Bone Garden discusses childbed fever with the presenter and a professor, but in the context of the past. They highlight the pain and agony of dying from this terrible disease, and how doctors used to be the cause of epidemics - by spreading it - but unfortunately there was no mention of the underlying natural causes - so often Group A streptococcus, a community bacterium.

Towards the end there is recognition of the fact that 16 women died of it in the mid 1990s, and that one woman (Jessica, I wondered) died of it in 2004. Why not go further and quote the more up to date statistics of 1997-99, 2000-02 and 2003-05 or mention the two more recent cases of childbed fever in Winchester last December as well?

I hope that when Friday's Child is published I may get the opportunity to bring the story up to date and highlight its continuance.

BBC South Today has tonight reported further in the aftermath of the two tragic deaths at The Royal Hampshire County Hospital in Winchester.

The hospital has, to reassure its patients, implemented a screening programme for Group A Streptococcus, but it doesn't plan to continue with it beyond the short term.

So, is it just a PR exercise, or is this test an accurate and useful weapon against childbed fever (still nobody calls it that, it is still 'complications caused by...') There may 'only' be an average of six maternal sepsis deaths a year, but even one avoidable death is enough to warrant prevention, isn't it?

If the test is not accurate then why are they doing it? If it is not 'cost effective' to continue it or take it nationwide, does the NHS not consider what yet another death could cost it?

If there was anything that could stop mothers dying, surely a responsible government would want to implement it, when 30% of the population carry Group A Strep?

I hear so many stories from mothers who have only just survived a Group A Strep infection that, if the problem is not taken seriously, it will be a time bomb that we are sitting on.

If only infection rates were measured and not just deaths - this is a far more common problem than we are led to believe.

Watch the BBC's report 

Amongst other Christmas goodies, I gave Harry and Emily a very special present. It wasn't immediately the most exciting, nor the biggest, but it has had a big effect, and one which I hope will last them for the rest of their lives.

I gave them a 'Name A Star' gift box, with a registration form for the star at RA:0h30m33s, DEC:3°13'29" which, after great discussion, is now called Jessica Palmer's Star, or Mummy's Star to us, but that could be confusing because, "another Mummy might have a star, Daddy".

The idea stemmed from the great work that Harry has been doing with his Skyscape of Memories at the Winston's Wish website (which I commend to anyone with children who have lost a loved one of any age or generation) and even if the star is not visible to the naked eye, it will forever be close to our hearts.

I have now downloaded a copy of "Saving Mothers' Lives" and am reading through it. A few paragraphs under the Genital tract sepsis chapter have caught my attention:

"As in previous Reports there was failure or delay in diagnosing sepsis, failure to appreciate the severity of the woman’s condition with resultant delays in referral to hospital, delays in administration of appropriate antibiotic treatment and late or no involvement of senior medical staff. There were some cases where doctors said they were already so busy dealing with other urgent problems that they were unable to see women for some time after admission. It was also clear that many doctors, midwives and community midwives were unfamiliar with the signs and symptoms of sepsis, did not realise when a woman was deteriorating or critically ill and failed to appreciate how quickly the clinical condition of a septic woman can deteriorate. There were also failures to take routine basic observations, to recognise abnormal fetal cardiotocograph (CTG) patterns and to ask for senior advice at an early stage."

"These cases of classical puerperal sepsis due to Group A haemolytic streptococcal infection demonstrate that by the time sepsis is clinically obvious, infection is already well established and deterioration into widespread septicaemia, metabolic acidosis, coagulopathy and multi-organ failure is very rapid and often irreversible. The best defence against this situation is awareness of the early signs of sepsis and early recognition by routine regular basic clinical observations. Earlier detection of pyrexia might have made a difference in these three cases. Postnatal observations of pulse, temperature, BP, respiration, and lochia should be done regularly while the woman is still in hospital and for several days after discharge by her community carers. This is particularly important in women who leave hospital a few hours after birth, ‘early discharge’, or if a woman complains of feeling feverish or unwell."

"In the past, puerperal sepsis or ‘childbed fever’ was a leading cause of maternal death and its signs and symptoms were widely known. Antisepsis, antibiotics and changing practice over the years mean that genital tract sepsis has become much less common and death is rare. The fear and respect with which it as held in the past by obstetricians, midwives and patients has disappeared from our collective memory. Action is now required to raise awareness of the signs and symptoms of sepsis and recognition of critical illness among staff in maternity units or in the community, Emergency Departments, and among GPs and health visitors.

The cases in this Report clearly demonstrate that genital tract sepsis is still a problem, that is repeatedly missed and there is often failure to treat women early and aggressively enough. Some of these maternal deaths may have been prevented if the signs and symptoms of sepsis and developing septicaemic shock had been recognised and treated earlier. Nevertheless the clinical picture of life-threatening sepsis often develops very rapidly and in many of the cases the outcome could not have been prevented."

There are more sections that could well have been cut and pasted from the previous report. And the one before. Why did I ever wonder if there was a point to raising awareness of sepsis? I have a very strong sense of deja vu. I hope these recommendations are followed in the future.