Dear Emily,
Today, you received heartbreaking news. You went into your ultrasound appointment, filled with hope, expecting to see a tiny heartbeat. Instead, you learned that the pregnancy we all looked forward to isn’t viable—and that it hasn’t been for some time.
I can relate all too well. I’ve faced this same devastating experience twice—once four years ago and again last year. I remember being in that dimly lit room, lying beneath a sheet, staring at the screen, praying for good news, but facing the harsh reality that it wasn’t meant to be.
It’s only now, as you navigate this pain, that I feel compelled to share my thoughts openly. In my journals, these losses are often represented by blank pages, as miscarriage can be incredibly difficult to discuss. It’s as if, without that pregnancy, a part of you feels missing, and speaking about it seems to invite more heartache.
But now, as I write to you, I hope that sharing my experiences will provide even a sliver of comfort. For eight weeks, you carried this life, and your body has been playing a cruel trick on you—craving sweets, causing physical discomfort, and sending your emotions into a whirlwind, all while nothing was developing. This is known as a missed miscarriage, and while it happens frequently, it feels like an unthinkable betrayal. I wish I could change this for you, to shield you from the pain that lies ahead because, quite simply, it will be incredibly difficult.
You, at 38, and I, at 31, have been adults for quite some time, but you will always be my big sister—an achiever, a trailblazer. You’ve always been the one to lead the way, and now, in this moment of heartache, our roles feel reversed. I want to comfort you, to say the right words, but I realize that my abilities in this area are limited. My only desire is to protect you from the challenges you will face in the coming months.
I wish I could shield you from the profound Sadness—the kind that weighs you down so heavily that even simple tasks feel monumental. In the beginning, you might struggle just to get out of bed, feeling as though your body has betrayed you. That emptiness can be suffocating, and I wish I could spare you from feeling lost and adrift.
Moreover, I want to protect you from the insidious Creeping Sadness, which may linger long after the initial shock. It can sneak up on you, resurfacing at unexpected moments—perhaps when you see a baby’s outfit you once considered buying or when you realize how far along you would have been. You may find yourself fighting back tears in public places, trying to hold onto your composure. It’s this creeping dread that I wish to keep at bay for you.
Additionally, I hope to guard you against the Hateful Rage that may take hold of your heart. You might find yourself resenting those who seem blissfully content with their families, questioning why they deserve joy when you’re left feeling broken. It’s a natural response, yet it only serves to deepen your pain.
If you choose to try again, I wish I could protect you from the Fear—the relentless anxiety that accompanies every symptom and every moment of hope. The Fear can be all-consuming, making it difficult to enjoy any potential pregnancy, as you question if the outcome will be different this time.
I want to take away this burden, to prevent the emotional toll that might affect your relationships with coworkers, family, friends, and even yourself. I wish I could tell you it will all be okay or that there are those who have faced worse circumstances. However, all I can offer is my unwavering love and support.
Above all, I hope you emerge from this stronger than I ever was. My greatest wish is for you to find peace and healing as you navigate through this pain.
If you are interested in learning more about fertility and home insemination, I encourage you to check out this informative article on intracervical insemination. Additionally, Make A Mom is an excellent resource for couples on their fertility journey, while CCRM IVF provides more insight into pregnancy and home insemination.
Summary: This letter expresses heartfelt support to a sister coping with the pain of miscarriage, sharing personal experiences and acknowledging the emotional turmoil that accompanies such a loss. It offers reassurance and encouragement while recognizing the complexities of grief and healing.