In I’m Sorry for My Loss, journalists Rebecca Little and Colleen Long deliver a searing, intimate, and deeply researched exposé on the many forms of pregnancy loss—miscarriage, stillbirth, and termination for medical reasons (TFMR)—set against the harrowing backdrop of reproductive rights in Post-Roe America. Written with both journalistic authority and the raw vulnerability of lived experience, this book redefines how we think about loss, womanhood, and bodily autonomy in a nation increasingly hostile to all three.
With their newest release What a Way to Go (2024), the authors continue to expand on themes of systemic failure and personal resilience, but I’m Sorry for My Loss stands as a foundational and fearless testament to voices long silenced.
The Personal as Political: A Dual Memoir Meets Investigative Journalism
Little and Long, childhood friends turned reporters, each suffered devastating pregnancy losses—stillbirth and medical termination—that reshaped their understanding of womanhood, medicine, and grief. These experiences aren’t merely anecdotes; they are the emotional backbone of a meticulously reported narrative that uncovers how America’s reproductive healthcare system—long fraught with racism, misogyny, and misinformation—has spiraled into a legal and moral quagmire.
Their interwoven stories serve not as memoir for catharsis alone but as anchoring points for broader cultural inquiry. In doing so, the book achieves something rare: it makes reproductive policy human without losing analytical rigor.
Anatomy of a System in Collapse
Divided into four major sections—How We Got Here, Sick Mothers, The Legal Morass, and The Making of Meaning—the book traces how language, law, medicine, and culture collude to obscure, politicize, and criminalize pregnancy loss.
What You’ll Learn:
- Historical Context: From colonial times to the post-Roe fallout, the authors map the evolving (and devolving) language of pregnancy and the constructed binaries of “good” vs. “bad” loss.
- Medical Reality vs. Legal Fictions: A blistering critique of how D&Cs, TFMRs, and even miscarriages are increasingly criminalized, especially in restrictive states like Texas and Louisiana.
- Disparities in Care: Black, Indigenous, and nonbinary patients are disproportionately harmed by these systems—either ignored, misdiagnosed, or dismissed entirely.
- The Role of Language: Terms like “products of conception” and “spontaneous abortion” expose how inadequate medical and political lexicons alienate patients and sanitize grief.
Writing Style: Gallows Humor Meets Reportorial Clarity
What distinguishes I’m Sorry for My Loss is its tonal bravery. The authors wield irreverent humor, sometimes dark and cutting, as a scalpel to slice through discomfort. From lines like “our cursed wombs” to raw text exchanges during research, their voice never strays from authenticity.
And yet, the journalistic precision is never sacrificed. Interviews with over 100 people—patients, providers, doulas, historians, lawyers—are weaved in without didacticism, creating a mosaic of insight that’s both eye-opening and empathetic.
Highlights of Their Narrative Technique:
- Use of inclusive, evolving language without falling into performativity
- Natural integration of statistics that humanize rather than numb
- A balance between anecdotal power and systemic analysis
Strengths: Why This Book Matters
- Timely and Urgent: In the aftermath of the Dobbs decision, this book is not just relevant—it’s essential reading.
- Deeply Human: Every story is rendered with care, allowing the reader to feel the stakes on a visceral level.
- Educational Without Preaching: The authors strike a difficult balance between informing the reader and challenging them to act or reflect.
- Intersectional Awareness: Issues of race, gender identity, class, and regional disparity are explored with sincerity and nuance.
Critiques: Where the Narrative Occasionally Falters
- Overwhelming Scope: While thorough, the book occasionally tries to cover too many facets—history, politics, law, medicine, memoir—at once. Readers may feel emotionally or intellectually exhausted without a stronger throughline.
- Limited Partner Perspectives: Although the authors state this isn’t a book about partners, a fuller lens on family dynamics beyond the birthing person could have added further dimension.
- Lack of Global Comparison: A brief contrast with global reproductive policies might have contextualized how uniquely (and tragically) American this crisis is.
Yet, these shortcomings are minor in comparison to the scale and success of what the book accomplishes.
Comparative Titles: Who Should Read This?
If you appreciated:
- The Turnaway Study by Diana Greene Foster
- An Exact Replica of a Figment of My Imagination by Elizabeth McCracken
- Invisible Women by Caroline Criado Perez
…then I’m Sorry for My Loss should be next on your list. It straddles the emotional resonance of memoir with the fact-based urgency of investigative journalism.
Key Themes and Takeaways
- Grief Without Ritual: The absence of societal scripts for mourning pregnancy loss intensifies isolation.
- Medical Gaslighting: Misdiagnosis and dismissal by healthcare professionals often compound trauma.
- Criminalization of Loss: In post-Roe America, the legal ambiguity surrounding abortion is weaponized against people experiencing any kind of pregnancy complication.
- Reclaiming Language: The book advocates for patients using their own words to define their experiences—whether that’s “baby,” “fetus,” or something else entirely.
My Personal Take: A Book That Stayed With Me
This is not a book you simply “read.” It’s a book you absorb. As someone invested in women’s rights, healthcare justice, and storytelling, I found myself highlighting entire pages, shaking my head, tearing up, and even laughing (unexpectedly) at the authors’ refusal to coddle discomfort. Their voice is biting, their arguments precise, and their empathy boundless.
I’m Sorry for My Loss also reminded me of how often silence masquerades as strength in our culture—especially around female grief. And how dangerous that silence can be. It challenged my assumptions and enriched my understanding of loss—not just as a personal tragedy but as a public health and civil rights crisis.
Wrapping It Up: Why This Book Needs to Be Read Now
In a time when pregnancy loss is either hidden in shame or dragged into the courtroom, I’m Sorry for My Loss breaks the silence with courage, candor, and compassion. Rebecca Little and Colleen Long have given us more than a book—they’ve given us a movement, a mirror, and perhaps most importantly, a vocabulary.
Whether you’ve experienced loss, supported someone who has, or want to understand the true cost of America’s war on reproductive rights, this book demands—and deserves—your attention.