Kyle's p.o.v

Depression greets me at the front door. Sarah's screams drive a sword through my heart. They are as loud as ambulance sirens. I run upstairs where even more

heartbreak awaits me. My bedroom resembles a hospital more than paradise. Clutching her stomach, my distraught wife tosses and turns in bed. "Sarah is experiencing a

miscarriage" solemn, Pops explains showing me the bloody sheets. I lay down beside Sarah and hold her close until the cramps pass over. Feeling the need to urinate, Sarah

abruptly leaves my presence. She disposes our baby's remains by which are blood clots into the toilet. Tears and hugs make up for loss of words exchanged between us. We

fear we may never have children.