Aberdeen chief Alan Burrows reveals how he and wife Emma suffered the agony of two miscarriages - but how that loss has helped him console players who have suffered similar tragedy in the 'macho' world of football

This is not a story about football. But it is a tale which is inextricably linked to the life of a footballing family. A story of grief and pain which, finally, has hope.

This is the story of the Burrows family, and the tragic loss of life that comes about through miscarriage.

In a sense, it’s my story, too - having experienced a similar tragedy many years ago with the loss of identical twins.

It’s not something I have spoken about previously, but it shouldn’t be taboo. And if this story helps but one person out there seek help or solace, then that alone is worth this discussion.

So here we are. Alan Burrows, chief executive of Aberdeen FC, is sitting opposite me in his office in the granite city.

We’re chatting via video link, but through the screen, there’s an unspoken understanding of our similar paths.

The beginning of our conversation is frank. No-holds-barred. To tell it properly, it is almost a necessity.

‘It was always our plan that we were going to have a family,’ says Alan.

‘A brother or sister for our other daughter, Eva. In the summer of 2022, we got the great news that Emma was pregnant.

‘She had hyperemesis with Eva, which wasn’t particularly pleasant, for about 18 or 20 weeks of the pregnancy.  

But that was the kind of worst it had got for us, everything else went really, really well. So we had no indication that anything was likely to happen when we fell pregnant again.’

It was at the couple’s 12-week scan, however, that events took a more devastating turn.

‘When the ultrasound went on to Emma’s tummy, I know what I expected to see, which was the 12 week development of a child and the outline of what it normally looks like, right? But what I saw was predominantly just like a black circle. There wasn’t much there.

‘However, we were reassured by the sonographer not to worry, not to panic. 

There were no red flags going off in my mind at this stage, but I remember glancing at Emma. 

I could just see a tear trickling down the left side of her face. 

And I hadn’t really even appreciated at that point what was going on in her mind.’

The sonographer left the room. Emma broke down in tears. Alan did his best to try and remain calm. 

When the sonographer re-appeared, she broke the devastating news that the couple had lost their baby.

‘It was really shocking,’ he says. ‘It was a complete bolt out of the blue. There were no warning signs, no bleeding, no pain. 

Immediately, there was a lot of crying, and all the sort of emotions you go through when you’re given that sort of news.

‘We were very quickly then whisked away to a pleasant little room. It’s a very small room in the hospital ward. 

It’s purple and cream and all the kind of usual soothing colours and quotes that you get in these types of places, but to me, it felt almost depersonalised. 

The nurses were extremely supportive and very understanding of the process. However, felt very regimented. It was almost like we were on a production line. 

Others had been in with good news of their pregnancy and they all leave with the nice pictures and the hopes and dreams and aspirations.

‘Unfortunately, we had to go through the other door, which was the door of devastation and loss and trauma. And very quickly, you have to make a decision on what to do next.’

The Burrows chose to go down the inducement route. This meant taking a tablet, rather than going through a medical procedure. 

It was something they could do at home together - and out of the hospital environment. Things, however, did not go quite as they’d anticipated.

By the next day, Emma was losing a lot of blood. She was deathly pale, and had fainted in her husband’s arms.

‘It happened again, while we were waiting on an ambulance,’ Alan tells me.

‘She was sitting on the toilet and she kind of stared at me. 

Her eyes locked together, and they just started to roll backwards and she just kind of collapsed motionless into my arms. 

So, I’m holding her up, and I’m trying to slap her face and get her back round. Now, I’m seriously concerned about her health. 

I’m really concerned about her wellbeing. So, I’m phoning the ambulance, I’m phoning 999 again saying: ‘Where’s this ambulance? I really need this ambulance”. 

Eventually, she got blue lighted to the hospital, and she was immediately taken in for a procedure to effectively medically complete the miscarriage process. 

She was very, very close to requiring a transfusion. It was a horrendous 48 hour period for us both.’

It strikes me that with such a pivotal role in a football club, it must have been particularly difficult for Alan to fully escape the mental torture. So how did he cope? Turning up, day after day, pretending everything is okay?

‘I got brilliant support from my colleagues and the board of directors at Motherwell,’ Alan says. ‘As well as the other people who were there. 

But you’re right, there is an expectation. I know I was useless for a period of time after I got that news. 

I just couldn’t go back, and I had to support Emma first and foremost. 

For me personally, there’s always that element, particularly in professional football, of testosterone and macho behaviour to a certain degree. 

You know, the expectation of what it should be like to work in football. 

We are making some improvements in that space, but there’s still a long way to go. 

So I had to make sure that I would continue to be the Motherwell chief executive, but also allow myself to grieve, allow myself to go through that mental challenge, and be able to support my wife through that.’

Alan eventually left the club in January 2023, after a long and successful period at Fir Park. 

His next port of call? Aberdeen - where he took over in February last year. 

It was to be a baptism of fire for the new CEO. If things were difficult on the pitch, they were about to get a whole lot worse just off it again.

Months into his job at Pittodrie, the couple found out that they were expecting once more. 

Naturally, they were wary of the road ahead. A private scan conducted at the six-week mark showed the baby was fine, but tragedy was soon to strike again when they returned for a scheduled appointment just two weeks later.

‘When we had the next scan, it was almost a carbon copy of the first time,’ says Alan. ‘I could see the look on Emma’s face, and this time it was much more definitive from the sonographer - who said: “I’m really sorry to tell you that there’s no heartbeat there”.

‘The feeling the second time was really difficult because we’d almost convinced ourselves that this was viable, and we had it there.

I just went into chief executive mode, questioning things, saying ‘No, this can’t be right, because we got the first scan and it was fine, and how can it be that two weeks later, this is it?

‘We got shipped away into the same room, at the same hospital. 

The only thing that we did differently this time, was to go for the medical procedure. 

There was no way we were going to go through that previous process again.’

It was at that point that the duo decided enough was enough. 

They’d give up on their dreams of having another child in their family.

 It was too difficult, too painful - and too risky for both of their states of mind.

Aberdeen, Burrows says, were fully supportive throughout the entire process. In some ways, talking to others within the footballing community, was a huge help.

‘I had one situation whereby a player at Aberdeen, who’s now no longer here, had experienced a similar thing, and I was able to help and speak to them very, very quickly. 

I still remain in contact with that person to this day, and like me, they’ve now gone through a positive experience where they’ve managed to have a child of their own, which is amazing.

‘Football has done a lot. It still has a long way to go, but in this area, the statistics (with 1 in 4 people experiencing a miscarriage) show that there will be at least one player per season, who’ll go through this part of the process.

‘I hope we have environments now in football clubs and I would like to think at Aberdeen certainly, that if anybody was going through this, that we would give them all the help and support they needed.’

This may sound like the end of this story. It isn’t. Fate was to intervene. Or, as Burrows puts it, a beautiful ‘accident’.

‘About 22 weeks ago my wife and I found out that we were pregnant again. 

And, do you know something - and I’m just going to be entirely honest with you - we thought, “Let’s just go to the eight-week scan. 

But let’s go, assuming that it’s going to have gone wrong”. It was the only way we could mentally prepare for it.

‘So we went to that eight-week scan expecting the worst. But then, we got good news. The baby at that stage was looking good.’

Their 12-week scan would produce similar results.

‘I didn’t know this in advance,’ says Alan, ‘but Emma had told the sonographer to give her hand a squeeze early doors, if she’d seen the baby was away. 

So, she knew before I knew that things were okay. I’m not embarrassed to tell you that I had tears running down my face, I was just so relieved.

‘We’re not out of the woods yet, because obviously still things can still happen, but fingers crossed. 

It’s a wee boy. So I’m really excited that hopefully on the 7th of August, we’ll complete the family set.’

For the first time in our interview, Burrows starts to get emotional. He holds it together, but his voice begins to waiver.

‘That’s the hope for everybody,’ he adds. ‘That’s the message I want to get across. 

That whilst it wasn’t planned from our point of view, I’m hoping at the end of the difficulties, there’ll be a happy ending. 

And that Eva can have a brother and we can have another little kid. We’re not at the end of the journey. However, the signs that we can get to the end of that journey, are positive so far. 

So that’s a really exciting thing for us to look forward to over the next couple of months, for sure.’