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  • Writer's pictureMichelle Haskell


A few weeks ago I ran into an old friend -- I’ll call her Rachel for the sake of this post, only because her story isn't mine to share.

Rachel had recently opened up on Facebook about her own experiences with infertility, so I was aware of the miscarriage she had a few months prior.

After the typical small talk and catching up, she informed me she was expecting again, her third, and this time twins. And although she was very excited, she quickly followed up telling me how they went to the doctor earlier that week, and unfortunately, only heard one heartbeat.

My response to her still haunts me today.

Instead of saying the words people typically say when someone has experienced losing a loved one -- I’m sorry for loss.. I’ll keep you in my prayers… I said, you must be relieved it's not twins.


I told a mom, who was just told the most heartbreaking news days prior, that she must be relieved because she lost one of her twins.


I told a mom, who just found out she lost her precious baby, she must be relieved.


You must be relieved... Those words are still haunting me today. Those words are making me cringe just typing them.


I can’t imagine feeling so much joy and sorrow in the same moment. I can’t imagine having to tell two young children they won’t be getting a baby brother or sister. I can’t imagine continuing a pregnancy journey, in fear of the worst one more time. I can’t imagine not hearing a heartbeat, nor the angst of not hearing two. I can’t imagine losing a child and someone saying to me, you must be relieved.

There is no relief. Not in having a miscarriage. Not in losing a child. Not even if it’s your third. Not even if it’s your fourth. Not even if was twins. There is no relief.


Rachel, if you are reading this, I am so incredibly sorry.

I am sorry I didn’t say the things people typically say when someone has experienced losing a loved one.

I am sorry I didn’t ask how you were doing.. or if you were okay.. or if you needed anything.

I am sorry I didn’t offer to be there for you.

I am sorry I didn’t give you a hug and say nothing at all.

I am sorry I said you must be relieved.


Rachel, I can’t imagine the pain and heartbreak you have experienced. I can’t imagine all of the highs and lows that have come with this pregnancy. I know your heart will always ache, and you will forever long to know the beautiful babies you have lost.

Rachel.. I am saddened for you, I am celebrating for you, and I'm praying for you, your precious baby, and your family.

Congrats on your beautiful boy - he is so lucky to have you as his mommy.


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