My Loss vs. Their Loss

I read a great article on NPR on how to help someone who has lost a child. It really resonated with me so I posted it on Facebook. But it didn't seem to really reach many, I think, and it made me wonder if it had to do with how different my loss of my child is as compared to the couple's loss of their children in the article.
Here's the article for reference:
http://www.npr.org/2012/12/18/167518956/when-someone-you-know-loses-a-child?sc=17&f=1001
This couple lost their children, who were barely in their twenties, and wrote about what friends and family can do now, and even in the years to come, to comfort those who lost their children in the Newtown tragedy. But, what really struck me was how they compared their loss to the losses of the much younger children in Newtown, about a 15-year age difference.
So why are these losses so comparable, when my loss is considered so different from them? To the point where I get comments such as, 'at least you know you can get pregnant,' and, 'you're young, you can have another baby.' No one would dare say these things to someone who has lost a five or six year old, let alone a twenty-something. So why is it so okay for society to tell me to just try again? I wanted Korbin, and having another child will never replace him, or the love and hopes and dreams I have, and had, for him.
These comments may seem encouraging, but they so grate on me and my fragile nerves. It seems like no matter how often I post things like the do's and don'ts, or even say them outright to those around me, society seems to turn the other cheek. It's just not okay to deal with loss and grieving publicly still, at least not for someone who lost a newborn. My loss is still not recognized as a loss in many hospitals. Many have their dying child whisked away without being able to see or hold them, and are told to just move on. But you don't just move on when your child dies. When your heart breaks. You can only hope to just keep going.
Even for someone who has had a miscarriage. That is still a devastating loss of hopes and dreams. Of the child you just began to love. I do think every loss is different, and that I can't understand someone else's loss just as they can't understand mine. But they are all still a loss of a child, the most devastating loss a person can experience according to the experts. If you wouldn't tell someone who lost their five year old to just have another child, then don't even think about saying that to me.
I hope people read this article, because Ryan and I still need the comfort of friends and family. Especially during the holidays. That doesn't mean we need constant hugs, or the 'I'm so sorry' look of pity. Just be here for us. Talk to us. Even just a note or text to say hello. Because, despite how much we're hurting inside or that we seem somewhat unresponsive to joy and excitement, we still got a lotta love to give.