Statutory Menstrual Leave

Emily Darlington Excerpts

Monday 13th April 2026 Westminster Hall

[Emily Darlington (Milton Keynes Central) (Lab)]

It is a pleasure to serve under your chairmanship, Mr Mundell. I declare an interest: I have adenomyosis. It took more than 30 years for it to be diagnosed. The average diagnosis time is nine years and four months. For ethnically diverse communities, it is over 11 years.

My story is not unusual. From the age of 14, I repeatedly went to the GP saying, “This isn’t normal.” That is like the 47% of sufferers who visited their GP more than 10 times before a diagnosis, while 70% visited more than five times. We all know what they were told: “You’re making a fuss about nothing”, “It’s normal”, and as we just heard from my hon. Friend the Member for Sherwood Forest (Michelle Welsh), “All you need is a hot water bottle and some painkillers.”

Like so many other young women—80% of them—I was put on the contraceptive pill before any further investigation, and well before I was sexually active. This continued for many years. I once convinced a doctor that the pain was so bad that I should have some kind of exploratory surgery, so they did exploratory surgery looking for endometriosis. They did not look for adenomyosis. After that, I really was told that I was making it up, because they could not find anything.

When I gave birth to my first child, I was in labour for 30 hours. A midwife at the other end of the phone kept saying to my husband, “If she’s able to nap, she’s clearly not having contractions.” I could nap during contractions because I had spent more than 30 years having to sleep with adenomyosis. I learned to have a very high pain tolerance. That baby was delivered in A&E because we got to the hospital so late. Even after being able to describe the pain of my periods being worse than the pain of contractions, not least because they were continuous and did not go away and come back like contractions, I was told that I was exaggerating and that it could not possibly be that bad. They told me that there was nothing they could do other than keep me on the contraceptive pill, which seemed to do nothing.

It was not until I got to the other end with my reproductive health, when I had to go for several scans for menopause ahead of getting treatment for perimenopause, that the scanner said to me, “Oh, you have adenomyosis. That must be really painful,” as an offhand comment. I was bowled over. I said, “What is that? I’ve never even heard of it.” I had heard of endometriosis, but I had no idea what adenomyosis was. She said, “Oh, it’s similar, but it’s growing in your muscle lining.” I could not believe it; I was shocked that from the beginning to the end of my reproductive years—all those years of pain—I never once got a proper diagnosis.

How did that impact my working career? I used to wish my period would start on a weekend, so that I would not have to miss work—I can see some nodding heads. I used to organise my work tasks around my expected period: I would do all the work that took concentration on days I knew would be good days, so that on the bad days I did not have to be productive. I missed about a day of work a month, which used to terrify me at the beginning of my career. I did not feel that I could talk to my bosses about it—I did not have the words to do so—and I had doubts from those doctors telling me that it was not as bad as I thought.

I also want to share April’s story. She is only 24 and she has been going through this for the past 10 years. Her periods were so painful that she vomited. It is like that for many of us: doctors would say, “Take a paracetamol,” and I would say, “That’s great, but I can’t keep it down. I will literally vomit it back up.” April had a Mirena intrauterine device fitted for her symptoms, but she wanted to get it removed. I was shocked by this story: she was told that the strings of her IUD had been cut too short to remove without surgery. When April asked why that was the case she was told:

“We cut the strings short for our younger patients, because we don’t want their boyfriends to find sex with them uncomfortable.”

April had to undergo surgery under general anaesthesia to remove her IUD. She says that, at every stage,

“A decision about my own body—my contraception, my ability to access the removal of my IUD—was shaped around the comfort of a hypothetical male partner.”

She was single at the time.

That is what we are all put through. At no point were any of us told that painful periods are not normal—I am not talking about discomfort; I am talking about pain—even though we know that to be the case. Each and every one of us should know that from the start. This relates to the fact that women’s health information is being shadow-banned online. Over the past year, 95% of women’s health educators were targeted for shadow-banning. That means that people who are trying to get this kind of health information out there are having their posts either blocked or downgraded because of their content. I do not mean to be rude, but that does not seem to happen to posts about erectile dysfunction.

Educators are told by big tech that it has been quietly restricting or hiding women’s health content that contains educational terms like “periods”, “menopause”, “vagina” and “endometriosis” under the guise of safety or because those terms are too sexualised. How are we supposed to create an environment in which not only we as women but our bosses, colleagues and partners, who might be male, all understand that painful periods are not normal, and that the pain is real?

We are seeing improvements in these areas, and I know that we are all looking forward to the women’s health strategy, which many of us have had long conversations about with the Ministers involved. We hope that it will bring about further real progress, but right now, I have a 15-year-old daughter who has all the same symptoms that I had, with all the same pain. I have told her all my tricks, including the use of irritable bowel syndrome medication to reduce some of the cramping—if people in the Public Gallery do not know about that one, it works really well—but our GP says that she is too young to start having such discussions. She is doing her mock GCSE exams this week. I wish her the best of luck, because she has studied really hard, but she is terrified that she will get her period this week and it will mess up those mock GCSEs.

I have given just a few examples; I know that women in the Public Gallery could give many more. We hear the same story over and over, and it all stems from this fallacy that periods are meant to be painful. Painful periods are not normal and we need to repeat that to every woman we know, including every female team member we know and every GP or consultant we know, to make real change happen.