When Deirdre miscarried with Rory it was a complete shock to me. I remember walking to the Rotunda [Hospital, in Dublin] to meet Deirdre and Conor for her scan and being very happy with life. Conor had just turned two and I was excited about the arrival of our second child.

I didn’t even hear the radiographer when she told Deirdre the baby had died, as I was distracted with Conor. That moment when Deirdre grabbed my arm and said those words “The baby has died” will haunt me for the rest of my life.

Obviously, the next few hours were a blur and we were just trying to cope with the horrible news. I think the shock was that we never expected it. Deirdre had gone past the first 16 weeks, when I understood there was a risk of miscarriage, and everything had gone so well on Deirdre’s first pregnancy that we just didn’t worry about anything going wrong.

In the days and weeks afterwards, my main concern was for Deirdre and I was trying to comfort her as I could see how upset she was. Deirdre was crying a lot and I wanted to comfort her and get her to stop crying because I stupidly thought that if she stopped crying, she would feel better. I now understand that it is very important to grieve and that crying is a very important part of the healing process.

Like a lot of men, I don’t like to show my emotion and this caused some tension between Deirdre and me in the weeks after Rory’s death. Deirdre wondered why I wasn’t crying about what had happened.

I was very upset, but initially my main focus was on looking after Deirdre and Conor. It was a very turbulent time in my life as I left my job around the time of Rory’s death. I did break down and cry at the service in the chapel [in the Rotunda], and again when we buried him in Maynooth. I think the grief hit me a lot later.

Unfortunately, Deirdre miscarried again in July 2014, although a lot earlier than with Rory.

I think this time I was better prepared to deal with the experience, but once again my main focus was on Deirdre as she suffered a lot more, physically, this time. Obviously, we had to help our boys through the experience; particularly Conor, who was seven when Jules died.

At some point in every day I think about Rory and Jules. I look at their brothers growing up and their amazing energy and often wonder how they would have got on with them. I know that they would be no different from Conor, Harry and Sam, who are eight, five and three.

It is very important to remember what happened, and we visit Rory’s grave regularly. The boys are great at doing little jobs: watering the plants, weeding and clearing rubbish. In a way I think it is their way of remembering him.

As Deirdre is involved with the Miscarriage Association of Ireland, I attend its annual service of remembrance and have also found it a great comfort, particularly to see the number of people who have been affected by miscarriage and to realise you are not on your own.