During and after my miscarriages, I often wondered what Chris was thinking or feeling. I was the one that was either totally silent or raging with tears and sobs. He was by my side and helpful, but very quiet and not really reserved, but normal. I kept questioning how this could be since we had both lost something that was so dear to us. Although I had went through the physical losses, he was there at every doctor and surgery appointment and actually was in the room when I went through one of my D&Cs. How could we be on such opposite pages? As a matter of fact, we were in separate books altogether.

Weighing in on this subject, I found an article on About.com that addresses this situation from another couple's point of view. One Miscarriage, One Man, One Woman

Divided into three sections explaining about each part and point of view, the article is written by Robin Elise Weiss, LCCE and her husband. The article is dedicated to their miscarried daughter, Miriam Sabra Weiss.

From the One Man's point of view, this section was the most eye opening to me:

But, how many hugs, how many words of love and comfort will it take to fill such a great emotional chasm? Nothing seems to quite make up for the loss of a potential child. What might they have been like? What greatness might the future have held for you and your baby? The overwhelming sense of loss of the unknown can eat away at your psyche, as easily as termites eat through wood, leaving behind a fragile shell, with all of your future plans taken away, leaving nothing but a vacuous void. The loss of what might have been can be as great as any pain you have ever felt. In the shadow of such pain and loss, how can anything you say or do possibly make you partner's grief any less?