Martha Mills’s death should be a turning point for Britain – we can no longer trust the NHS

There is no word in the language for a parent who has lost a child. A man without his darling wife is a widower, a woman without her man a widow. What do you call a person who has their heart broken into a thousand jagged pieces when a young son or daughter predeceases them? The burden of that intolerable grief was captured four centuries ago in On My First Son, a quietly devastating poem by Ben Jonson. Failing to master the sorrow he feels over the loss of his seven-year-old boy, the poet cries