After a miscarriage, try to come together, not apart
Q: Do I have to tell my husband I had a miscarriage? I'm too emotionally exhausted to cause more pain to us both and I'd rather not have this painful episode as part of our history. I'd rather just try to conceive again and have us both excited about the future. (He never knew I was pregnant.)
A: I can see how tempting it is, just to push your sadness aside to make room for happier feelings. But when does handling things privately become a habit? And at what point do husband and wife wake up feeling like roommates?
I'm getting ahead of myself. This isn't a slippery-slope argument, where I conjure one possible future just to beat you over the head with it. This is about what you are and aren't doing right now.
What you aren't doing is causing "pain to us both" by telling your husband. The miscarriage did that. You are only the messenger.
What you aren't doing is eliminating "this painful episode as part of our history." It happened, it's there, it's not going away. You are merely excluding your husband from this history, and therefore from his chance to grieve with you, grow with you. Cocktails on the deck at sunset might sound more appealing, but that's not what brings couples close. Entrusting your hearts to each other, and regarding that trust as both a lofty honor and a mundane set of daily responsibilities — that's what brings couples close.
With that in mind, here's what you are doing: locking your husband out of your marriage.
No, you don't "have" to tell him anything (though please tell your OB-GYN if the "emotional exhaustion" persists). For all I know, you have good reasons for locking him out. Maybe you've been through enough with him to know you can't trust him with your heart.
But if that's the case, it's a compelling argument for using this sad event as a reckoning, to deal with your distrust of him — certainly before you get pregnant again. And if you don't have a reason to lock him out, then that, too, is a compelling argument for speaking up: Who says you get to feel everything for both of you? Wasn't this his baby, too? And along the more mundane lines: Isn't it possible he's wondering why you're not quite yourself?
Please know I'm not trying to pile onto your grief (and hormonal flux) with a scolding. I understand and sympathize with the impulse to turn inward. But you didn't create these hopes alone; likewise, the innermost place to which you're retreating ought to have room for two.
Showing loyalty is one thing, demanding it is another
Q: When is it legitimate for one friend to ask another to not associate with someone? Some of my friends have gotten into arguments with each other and asked me not to have anything to do with the other person. At first I was stuck on whether their requests were reasonable, but now I feel angry that they're even asking this of me.
A: Justifiably so. I believe friends have grounds to ask your loyalty in only one case: when someone causes them deliberate and life-altering harm (e.g., emotional abuse counts, a snub doesn't). But even then, the way you show that loyalty isn't their call, it's yours.