Some losses are particularly hard to bear, partly because we have no formal rites to grieve them. Miscarriage marks the death of dreams as surely as it does the death of a baby months before it was due. "We counted our lucky stars and you were it," one woman in this collection writes sadly. Another notes, "You can publicly mourn someone others have met, someone people were expecting, someone who looks like a child. I mourn children who most people never knew about, never expected, who never looked like children." These stories and poems are anguished and touching. Paradoxically, they offer comfort to anyone who has suffered a miscarriage