I asked Hubby to write a blog post for me regarding his experience with our recurrent pregnancy loss. I gave him no real guidelines and admitted that I may not even use it but at the very least I think it would help him work through some stuff just like it helps me. He said he would do it but became far too restless for my liking and took to cleaning the whole house before sitting at his computer (not that I hated the cleaning part). I thought it was pretty obvious but necessary procrastination. Then he quietly emailed me what he wrote and gave me permission to share it here, with all of you…

My wife has lost The Baby, I won’t be in this week”

I’ve said these words over the phone to my (very understanding) boss on more than one occasion. I’ve said it standing in my home, I’ve said it waiting in a hospital room and I’ve said it from a remote mine-site (changing the “I won’t be in this week” to “I’m getting on the next plane home”).

The feeling of helplessness is what stands out for me most clearly from each loss that we, as a couple, have suffered.  The feeling of inadequacy and inability to help with the physical symptoms. The feeling of not being able to take away the pain from a loved one, standing there and seeing someone you love suffer this unimaginable event.

In my professional career, my primary duty is managing and resolving crises’ and I’ll tell you that I’m extremely good at it (as well as being incredibly modest).  I can see the problem, I can think of a plan to manage during the crisis until a resolution can be found and enacted, and then deal with the fallout when the dust has settled.

When Katie had the miscarriages, none of this stuff I do on a daily basis was any good. There was this huge problem with no solution, nothing could be done to minimize its impact, there was no “fix” for the issue. All I could do was be there, be present. I could offer a shoulder to cry on, cups of tea, making meals and buying flowers. I think that being able to care for someone becomes therapeutic after a while – keeping their needs in mind, just being physically close eventually leads to opening up and talking about what has happened.

I’m extremely lucky to have a wife like Katie, in that we were able to mutually support each other through our losses. I think that through everything we’ve seen, we’ve become stronger as a couple and now have a better understanding of each other and our relationship.

I’m sure Hubby won’t mind me telling you that he found this difficult to write, but that he hopes to contribute to the blog again by sharing more on this topic from his point of view. I appreciate my asking for him to be vulnerable in this way is huge but I’ve gained another level of understanding about him, our relationship and what kind of impact our losses have had for both of us. Big thanks to you Hubster, and, as always, to you for reading.

Until next time,




  1. You must be so proud of your husband Katie. I can tell it really hurt my husband, but he doesn’t seem to be able to open up about our loss at all. He just discusses it factually and biologically. Thank you so much for this.

    1. I am incredibly proud of Hubby. He’s been a rock throughout all these years as well as trying to cope with his own pain and grief. I think men generally find it hard to open up which is really sad because they’re hurting too. I left my request casual and quite broad in subject for Hubby because I know how emotional writing can get, I think it helped him though.

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