Sometimes you still cry over a future in your hands now lost. Sometimes you feel the worthlessness of never using those hands to hold what could have grown in you for nine months.
Other times you feel that your cries are unworthy. There are solutions. Why would you need to work yourself up over any of it? There are worse things happening in the world. It’s not even time to worry about such things.
Maybe your complaints are like those of a child being refused candy. Nobody promised the child that candy. How dare the child feel that they deserve the rush of sugar?