by Elle Wright
These books are not ‘light’ reading. They are full of heartache and heartbreak. At times I just sat there shaking my head thinking, There’s no way this is happening again to this couple. And yet, even with these heartbreaking stories from her own life experiences, Elle manages pull in her reader with emotion, heart, and, surprisingly, even some humor.
I read Elle’s first book, Ask Me His Name, last year. Reading the story of her and her husband having to say good-bye to their firstborn son, Teddy, at only three-days-old was heartbreaking beyond belief. And while I will probably do a re-read to reflect on this first book a bit more here, I will reiterate that Elle’s writing style, despite the aching topic, is very approachable. It’s a book I highly recommend to anyone who has lost a child or knows someone who has. But I also recommend it to any human being. I think finding well-written, soulful books that can help us empathize with others is always a good idea.
Reading or hearing about miscarriage or baby loss was a terrifying notion for me during my child-bearing time. I’m not too far off when I say I was tempted to put my fingers in my ears and start singing loudly to myself at the mere mention of either of these topics. My own experience with miscarriage began a big shift, as I had my own deep sadness to heal. I realized how much I longed to talk about it, and I finally began listening and connecting with other women who had been through it too. Then, during the past year, I went deeper, reading as much as I could on the unthinkable subject of baby loss after people close to me lost their sweet newborn boy. While I don’t personally know this journey, it is one I’ve now opened myself up to learning about so I can find the best way to offer support and love. This has allowed me to hold space in my heart for so many parents and families now.
As if the unimaginable heartbreak of losing a baby isn’t tough enough, I hear again and again how little support there is outside the circles of parents who have experienced such loss. I think the idea of losing a baby is so painful to even think about that many people who haven’t experienced such unimaginable loss would prefer couples ‘move on’ from their grief so that *they* don’t have to have this on their heads. While many of the comments and thoughts that others offer in these heartaching situations may come across as hurtful or even callous, I’ve also been trying to at least understand what’s behind it. While I don’t always agree with people’s comments to bereaved parents, I think I see that people outside such a horrible situation just can’t even bare the thought. It’s as if the bereaved parents need to ‘cheer up’ to make other people more comfortable. It sucks, and I can’t imagine some of the comments thrown out to these already-grieving parents. I often struggle with what to say and how to say it, and I’m positive I get it wrong sometimes. And while I strongly believe saying something is better than saying nothing, sometimes there just really are no right words. But I feel that books like Elle’s can at least start to lay the groundwork for others to gain more understanding, so we can offer more empathy and more support.
And just when I thought I was gaining at least some perspective on the aching topic of baby loss, I read Elle’s second book, A Bump in the Road. I knew from looking her up online that Elle had welcomed a second child in 2020, and I was expecting this second book to be a story of her balancing her emotions of grief and anxiety and hope and joy. And while she does address this towards the end of the book (Oh, how complicated that question is -“How are you feeling?” when you’re expecting a new baby after a loss or miscarriage), this book is mainly about Elle’s journey of infertility and miscarriage. It is just as heartaching as the first and has given me a huge new empathy for the infertility journey many couples face. As Elle openly shares their experiences play by play, it almost doesn’t seem real. So much sadness and struggle. Spoiler alert– the book does end with the safe arrival of their second child, but never for a second does Elle discount her firstborn or her two babies lost in between. Her writing is so genuine and beautiful throughout, but it shines the most in her ‘letter to her former self’ at the very end of the book.
These books are tough reads. People have busy lives and I completely understand not wanting to put yourself in such a heartbreaking space. But, truly, these books have given me such a gift. Through Elle’s willingness to share her experiences in such a heartfelt and open way, I feel like I can hold space and love for parents struggling with infertility and loss in a way that I just wouldn’t have even been able to wrap my head around before. It’s horrible, but, sadly, we will all know people -or be people – who have these very real and very tough struggles. Not everyone who goes through this will want to be such an open book (literally), and I 100% respect that, but I do think being able to hear from parents like Elle will help those of us on the outside find more empathy and understanding. And those very unfortunate ones who do understand can hopefully feel heard, understood, and validated at a time when that might be rare to find.
For a brief summary of Ask Me His Name, try this article: “My Baby Died. Please Ask Me His Name”