Not “crushing, can’t think, can’t get out of bed, would do anything to dislodge the small black beast from my chest and make breathing a little easier” sad. I’ve been that sad. After our first pregnancy, a 10-week miscarriage, I was sad like that. I lie awake some nights and dread the first time one of my children is that sad. I know the little boy who didn’t stay with us felt that sad, and I lie awake on other nights hoping his forever mother has touched that spot in him and eased it.

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