As a father of two daughters, my life is a whirlwind of pink bows, baby dolls, and songs from animated movies. My eldest shares some of my traits: blue eyes, a laid-back attitude, and a passion for reading. In contrast, my younger daughter resembles her mother—olive skin, fierce determination, and a bit of spunk. Our family of four has been complete for over five years—just me, the dad, and my three girls (even our cat, Bella, is female!).
Before my daughters arrived, friends often told me I needed a son—someone to mirror my interests in sports, yard work, and video games. After welcoming our second daughter, I accepted that I was meant to be a dad to girls. I held onto the hope that one day one of them would share my enthusiasm for baseball or trade ballet shoes for soccer cleats. So far, that hope has remained unfulfilled.
When my wife, Sarah, told me in early September last year that she was pregnant, a mix of anticipation and excitement washed over me. I began to imagine what it would be like to have a son. Would we name him Jake? Or perhaps after a legendary athlete? My mind raced with thoughts of the tiny sports jerseys I would buy for my child. But before I could even share our joyful news, Sarah revealed the heartbreaking truth: she was experiencing a miscarriage.
In that moment, we both felt paralyzed. Just a week had passed since we discovered her pregnancy, and now we were facing an unimaginable loss. It happened before we could even tell family or friends, before we had the chance to discuss whether we would find out the baby’s gender or plan for a nursery. I couldn’t help but wonder—why was this happening? We had a stable home, close to family, and even a minivan to accommodate a larger family. What more did we need?
While it’s well-known that miscarriage profoundly impacts women, the emotional toll on men is often overlooked. Few support groups exist for fathers grappling with the loss of a child, leaving many to suppress their feelings. The statistics don’t help either: “In approximately 40 percent of infertile couples, the male partner is either the sole cause or a contributing cause of infertility” (American Society for Reproductive Medicine).
Men are wired to fix problems. We strive to be the solid foundation for our families, yet when faced with the reality of infertility, we often feel powerless. My wife and I experienced our first miscarriage back in October 2003, just three months into our marriage. At that time, we were still getting to know each other and didn’t feel ready to take on parenthood. Strangely enough, that loss brought a sense of relief.
This time around, however, it’s different. We’ve matured, and our two daughters are eager to welcome a sibling. We feel prepared in every sense. This loss stings much more.
Fatherhood is often seen as a hallmark of masculinity. Achieving this milestone can become a source of pride—an accomplishment on the “Man’s To-Do List.” When that goal is unfulfilled, it can lead to feelings of inadequacy. Many men share this experience, yet we rarely discuss it openly, shying away from vulnerability. Instead of gathering to share our thoughts over coffee, we hide behind our tough exteriors.
As we navigate our lives, don’t forget the men who share the weight of miscarriage. They exist, even if their pain remains unspoken. They work long hours, trying to suppress thoughts about fatherhood while engaging in conversations about sports and cars.
Sometimes our daughters ask for a baby brother or sister as if it were as simple as picking something from a store. My wife and I exchange knowing glances; we want one too, girls. The future remains uncertain, but we refuse to abandon hope. After all, I’m a man, and I strive to make things right.
If you’re looking for resources on home insemination, check out this great article for more information. And for insights on caring for a baby, this site provides excellent guidance. Additionally, Progyny’s blog is a fantastic resource for all things related to pregnancy and home insemination.