it's dark in this place called dead baby land

I've sat here trying to articulate what I need to say, but somehow cannot. This past week I have had a really tough time. And that is the understatement of the century. I do not yet know what my triggers are, but I know that something has set me off, and I am in the midst of a mental breakdown (so it seems to me) The nightmares are back. The waking in the middle of the night hearing a baby cry. The flashbacks. The guilt, the blame, the anger. It's all back. I'm sad. But that doesn't begin to describe it does it? I'm broken, and destroyed and, and. And I don't think there are actually words to describe it, are there?
Why does it feel as if I take two steps forward, then fall back into this pit of despair?
There are some that don't understand my pain. I've heard the term "she wasn't even human yet" tossed around. I swear to you this was said to us. And it broke us. It broke my Husband, it broke me. It turned us bitter and cold. There were those that refused to come to our child's funeral. Saying that we were ridiculous to hold a funeral for "products of conception" But they don't know. Didn't ask. Didn't realize. I LABORED for 15 hours. My body writhing in pain. My soul breaking in pieces. I labored, my water broke, I pushed my child out of my womb. Into silence. Instead of buying bottles and diapers, we bought an urn. Instead of sleepless nights due to a newborn, we had sleepless nights due to grief. Instead of a baby shower we had a damned funeral.
So I'm bitter, WE are bitter. I am angry. WE are angry. My husband, me, our family we are broken. But we are together. And together, with Jim, With Jakob, Stella and Claire, we will find a way to be okay. Sadness will always tinge our family. But it won't ruin us. No it will not.