But how does it make you feel?
As a parent of three, I know first-hand how difficult raising a child can be. It is stressful, exhausting, and every synonym thereafter. Sometimes, this heady cocktail of a lack of sleep and the frustration of a misbehaving child leaves me short-tempered.
But I have no idea how lucky I am.
When a close friend loses a baby, it makes you step back and think about what really matters. Those parents would give anything to be in my situation. They would bargain their own souls to have a child who doesn't sleep through, or who throws tantrums, because then at least they would have a child to hold instead of one they are having to say goodbye to.
And so these thoughts are swiftly followed by pangs of guilt. Was it really necessary to send my son to his room for something which wasn't strictly his fault? Did I have to be so tough on my toddler for wetting himself? Do I sometimes lose sight of what is most important in life, wishing the sleepless nights would pass when instead I should be embracing the fact that I am lucky enough to have a child in the first place? The answer - to all of these questions - is yes.
No good can come from the death of a baby: strength perhaps, eventually; the desire to help others, to prevent their suffering. In these ways the energy of such a tragedy can be channelled positively. But no good can come from losing a child, and every bereaved parent who has used their grief as a springboard to help others would give it all up in a heartbeat to have their baby back. And so I hug my children a little tighter tonight, remember that I am one of the lucky ones, and that - even when I have reached the end of my tether - I am so incredibly fortunate.