Luck should not determine whether a woman hemorrhages to death
Across the United Kingdom, at least a hundred women have emerged from the shadows of emergency operating theatres to tell a strikingly similar story: a rare but detectable pregnancy complication went unseen, and their bodies paid the price in blood, fertility, and years of psychological aftermath. Placenta accreta spectrum, a condition in which the placenta embeds too deeply into the uterine wall, is manageable when found and catastrophic when missed — and in six out of ten documented cases, NHS staff missed it. What these women's stories collectively reveal is not a series of isolated misfortunes but the shape of a system that has yet to decide this condition deserves to be watched for.
- At least 100 women have come forward with accounts of placenta accreta spectrum going undetected, resulting in emergency hysterectomies, catastrophic blood loss, and in one case a child left with cerebral palsy after a maternal stroke during delivery.
- The condition is both rare enough to be routinely overlooked and serious enough that a single missed diagnosis can end a woman's fertility, damage her organs, and leave her with PTSD that outlasts the physical wounds.
- There is currently no central NHS database, no mandatory reporting requirement, and no national body responsible for tracking the condition — meaning best practice exists only in specialist centres while most hospitals operate without consistent screening protocols.
- Campaign founders Amisha and Nik Adhia, backed by former health secretary Jeremy Hunt, are pressing the government for mandatory case reporting, centralized data systems, and updated maternity guidelines that would place the condition on NHS dashboards.
- The Department of Health has pointed to an upcoming independent maternity care review, £149 million in safety funding, and plans to recruit over 2,000 midwives — but advocates argue these measures do not yet directly address the diagnostic gap at the heart of the crisis.
Erin Cooper was a theatre nurse when she became pregnant in 2023. She bled heavily from week 26 onward — a symptom that should have prompted investigation. No one tested her for placenta accreta spectrum. At 33 weeks, the bleeding became catastrophic. She lost 4.5 litres of blood during an emergency caesarean section, and surgeons performed a hysterectomy to save her life. She was 33 years old.
Cooper is one of at least 100 women who have come forward since February with accounts of the condition going undetected by NHS staff. Placenta accreta spectrum occurs when the placenta embeds too deeply into the uterine wall, making natural separation during delivery impossible. For women with risk factors — previous caesarean sections, fertility treatment — the stakes are absolute. Diagnosed in advance, the condition is manageable. Undiagnosed, it becomes a hemorrhage.
Of the 100 cases documented by Amisha and Nik Adhia, founders of the Action for Accreta campaign, 61 percent went undiagnosed. The stories are consistent in their devastation. Chloe Robinson from Burnley bled heavily at 34 weeks in July 2024 and arrived at hospital in the middle of the night. Surgeons discovered the condition only after opening her abdomen. She lost six litres of blood, underwent a hysterectomy, and her daughter suffered a stroke during the traumatic delivery and now lives with cerebral palsy. Robinson believes early detection would have changed everything.
The physical consequences reach far beyond the operating theatre. Cooper has left nursing because she cannot work in patient-facing roles. She panics at the sound of sirens and cannot drive past the hospital without her anxiety spiking. She faces early menopause and grieves her lost fertility. Other women report permanent damage to their bladders and bowels. The Birth Trauma Association has documented deep psychological injury in women whose diagnoses came too late.
The campaign has drawn support from Westminster, including former health secretary Jeremy Hunt, who has called for improved data collection, mandatory case reporting, and consistent training across NHS trusts. Currently, there is no central database for the condition, no mandatory reporting requirement, and no national body responsible for tracking it. Amisha Adhia — who was failed by five hospitals before her own diagnosis — has met with the minister for maternity care to press for updated guidelines and inclusion of the condition on maternity dashboards.
The Department of Health acknowledged the women's experiences and pointed to an independent maternity care investigation due next month, alongside £149 million in safety funding and plans to recruit more than 2,000 midwives. But the gap at the centre of this crisis remains: a condition rare enough to be overlooked, serious enough to be fatal, and detectable enough that its continued misdiagnosis looks less like bad luck and more like a failure of the system designed to prevent it.
Erin Cooper was a theatre nurse when she became pregnant in 2023. She bled heavily from week 26 onward, a symptom that should have triggered alarm. No one tested her for placenta accreta spectrum. At 33 weeks, the bleeding became catastrophic. During an emergency caesarean section, she lost 4.5 litres of blood. Doctors performed a hysterectomy to save her life. She was 33 years old.
Cooper is one of at least 100 women who have come forward since February with stories of placenta accreta spectrum—a rare but potentially fatal pregnancy complication—going undetected by NHS staff. The condition occurs when the placenta embeds too deeply into the uterine wall, making it impossible to separate naturally during delivery. For women who carry risk factors—previous caesarean sections, fertility treatment—the stakes are absolute. Undiagnosed, it becomes a hemorrhage. Diagnosed, it becomes manageable.
Of the 100 cases documented by Amisha and Nik Adhia, who launched the Action for Accreta awareness campaign, 61 percent went undiagnosed. Seventy-five cases came from across the UK; the rest from abroad. The stories are consistent in their devastation. Chloe Robinson from Burnley bled heavily at 34 weeks in July 2024. She arrived at hospital in the middle of the night. Surgeons discovered the condition only after opening her abdomen. She lost six litres of blood and underwent a hysterectomy. Her daughter suffered a stroke during the traumatic delivery and now lives with cerebral palsy. Robinson believes the stroke was preventable—that early detection would have changed everything.
Cerri-Anne Almond's case illustrates what early detection looks like. Her placenta accreta spectrum was discovered only during her caesarean section in 2021, when surgeons opened her abdomen and saw immediately that something was wrong. A specialized surgical team was called in. She survived. She calls herself one of the lucky ones. The implication is clear: luck should not determine whether a woman hemorrhages to death on an operating table.
The physical consequences extend beyond the operating theatre. Cooper suffers from PTSD around blood. She has left her career as a theatre nurse because she cannot work in patient-facing roles. She panics at the sound of sirens. She cannot drive past the hospital without feeling her anxiety spike. She is 33 and facing early menopause. She grieves her lost fertility. Other women report permanent damage to their bladders and bowels. The psychological toll is equally severe. The Birth Trauma Association has documented deep trauma in women whose diagnoses came too late, whose bodies were ravaged by preventable hemorrhage.
The campaign has attracted support from across Westminster. Jeremy Hunt, the former health secretary, has called for systemic change: improved data collection, mandatory reporting of cases, and consistent training across NHS trusts. Currently, there is no central database for placenta accreta spectrum cases, no mandatory reporting requirement, and no national body responsible for tracking the condition. Best practice remains locked in a handful of specialist centres while women elsewhere receive no screening, no preparation, no warning.
Amisha Adhia launched the campaign after five hospitals failed to diagnose her own placenta accreta spectrum. She has met with Gillian Merron, the minister for maternity care, to press for updated guidelines and inclusion of the condition on maternity dashboards. The Department of Health and Social Care acknowledged the women's experiences and pointed to an independent investigation into maternity care due next month, along with £149 million in additional funding for maternity safety and the recruitment of more than 2,000 midwives. But the gap remains: a condition that is rare enough to be overlooked, common enough to devastate the women it affects, and preventable enough that its continued misdiagnosis reads as a systems failure rather than bad luck.
Notable Quotes
I now have PTSD around blood. I was a theatre nurse. I've had to change jobs and can no longer work in a patient-facing role.— Erin Cooper, affected woman
The fact that 61% of women in this report went undiagnosed proves that the essential infrastructure simply does not exist.— Amisha Adhia, Action for Accreta campaign founder
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Why does placenta accreta spectrum go undiagnosed so often? Isn't it visible on ultrasound?
It can be, but only if someone is looking for it. You need to know the risk factors—previous caesarean section, IVF treatment—and you need to have the expertise to interpret what you're seeing. Many NHS trusts don't have that expertise concentrated in one place.
So it's a training problem?
It's partly that. But it's also a systems problem. There's no central data, no mandatory reporting. If a hospital misses a case, there's no mechanism to flag it, to learn from it, to prevent the next one. The condition stays invisible until a woman is hemorrhaging on the operating table.
What happens to these women after they survive?
Some lose their careers, like Erin Cooper. Some lose their fertility. Some watch their children live with permanent disability because of what happened during delivery. The physical recovery is one thing. The psychological aftermath—the PTSD, the grief—that's lifelong.
Is there a way to prevent it entirely?
Not prevent it, but manage it. If you know a woman has placenta accreta spectrum before labor, you can schedule a planned caesarean section with a specialized surgical team standing by. You can have blood ready. You can prepare. The difference between diagnosed and undiagnosed is the difference between a controlled procedure and a life-or-death emergency.
What would systemic change actually look like?
Mandatory reporting so every case gets recorded. Training so every maternity unit knows how to screen for it. Guidelines that are consistent across the NHS instead of locked away in specialist centres. A national body that tracks the condition and shares what works. Right now, women in one hospital get screened and women in another don't, depending entirely on where they happen to give birth.