(You probably already know this, but) Khloe Kardashian had a baby.

The 33-year-old reality star — arguably the most relatable of America's first TV family — gave birth to a baby girl on April 12. And, like me, the internet couldn't be any happier.

OK, maybe not everyone.

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Sara Walsh, a former ESPN anchor, recently shared a photo on Instagram of herself enjoying Mother's Day with her twin babies.

It's all sunshine, smiles, and cute onesies as the trio snuggles together in a hammock. In the photo's caption, however, Walsh reveals that her journey to motherhood was anything but a walk in the park.

In her emotional message, Walsh explains that she suffered a miscarriage years ago while hosting a live, televised "SportsCenter" segment.

My mother bought them these onesies because she thought they were funny. For us, they're especially poignant. Finding a good egg didn't come easy for me, and I suspect there are many people out there facing the same struggle. The road down a dark path began while hosting Sportscenter on the road from Alabama. I arrived in Tuscaloosa almost three months pregnant. I wouldn't return the same way. The juxtaposition of college kids going nuts behind our set, while I was losing a baby on it, was surreal. I was scared, nobody knew I was pregnant, so I did the show while having a miscarriage. On television. My husband had to watch this unfold from more than a thousand miles away, texting me hospital options during commercial breaks. It would get worse. Two more failed pregnancies. More than once, I'd have surgery one day and be on SportsCenter the next so as not to draw attention to my situation. We then went down the IVF road of endless shots and procedures. After several rounds, we could only salvage two eggs. I refused to even use them for a long time, because I couldn't bear the idea of all hope being gone. I blew off pregnancy tests, scared to know if it worked. It had. Times two. It was exciting news, but we knew better than to celebrate. So I spent a third straight football season pregnant, strategically picking out clothes and standing at certain angles, using scripts to hide my stomach. There would be no baby announcement, no shower, we didn't buy a single thing in preparation for the babies, because I wasn't sure they'd show up. We told very few people we were pregnant, and almost no one there were two. For those that thought I was weirdly quiet about my pregnancy, now you know why. For as long as I can remember I hosted Sportscenter on Mother's Day, and the last couple years doing that have been personally brutal. An hours-long reminder of everything that had gone wrong. I wasn't on tv today, and I'm not sure when I will be again, but instead I got to hang with these two good eggs. My ONLY good eggs. And I know how lucky I really am. #twins #ivf

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This woman's emotional postpartum depression story is actually incredibly common.

Postpartum depression is valid. It is real. And it can feel devastating.

This story was originally published on The Mighty.

I gripped the wheel as I inched across the ice-caked road, my knuckles nearly the color of the falling snow. My thoughts bounced recklessly through my sleep-deprived brain.

What if I slide off the side of this bridge? How will I save them all? How can I get them all out? Who left me in charge of three children? How do I even have three kids? I don’t know how to do this. What if I am ruining them all?

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