When actress Brooke Shields decided to have a baby with her husband, Chris Henchy, she never expected it to be a long and difficult process. Finally, after numerous fertility treatments she became pregnant and gave birth to a daughter. But instead of feeling happy, she was faced with a crippling depression. In her new book, "Down Came the Rain: My Journey Through Postpartum Depression," she details her struggle after the birth of her child and her eventual recovery. Read an excerpt.

Once upon a time, there was a little girl who dreamed of being a mommy. She wanted, more than anything, to have a child and knew her dream would come true one day. She would sit for hours thinking up names to call her baby.

Eventually this little girl grew up. Though she’d met and married her Prince Charming, she was having trouble conceiving. She began to realize that her dream wasn’t going to come true without a great deal of medical help.

So she went on a long journey through the world of fertility treatments. When none of them worked, she got frustrated and depressed. She felt like a failure.

And then one day, finally, she became pregnant. She was thrilled beyond belief. She had a wonderful pregnancy and a perfect baby girl. At long last, her dream of being a mommy had come true. But instead of being relieved and happy, all she could do was cry.

The Little Engine That Could
After all of the time I’ve spent in the public eye, you might think that finding out I was going to have a miscarriage moments before stepping onstage wouldn’t shake me up, but it did....

December 2001. I’m standing in the wings of the Palace Theatre in Hollywood, California, for MuppetFest, which is a tribute to Jim Henson as well as a fund-raiser for Save the Children. I’m wearing a sleeveless black sequined dress and am in full hair and makeup. There is a great deal of excitement and energy in the air, and the audience, a full house, is having difficulty staying quiet. From where I’m standing, I can see lots of grown-ups and kids milling around their seats, eating popcorn and talking.

In order not to be seen by the audience before my cue, I have to move farther backstage, to where Mr. Snuffleupagus is also waiting for his entrance. However, because he is such an oversize creature, he is too big to make room for me. I end up having to wedge myself under his chin and between his front legs. Little bits of brown fur are flying everywhere, including up my nose. It takes all my effort not to sneeze.

It won’t be long before the stage will be filled with color and sound and lots and lots of fur. So here I am, wearing a pink feather boa and long purple gloves and a huge fake diamond ring that keeps getting caught on the boa. And though it’s not yet evident, I’m pregnant. But it’s not that simple. Yesterday, after some basic blood work, I was told that for some reason, something wasn’t right with the pregnancy, and additional testing was needed. I was reassured that it was a routine precaution. So, early this morning, before coming to the theater, I went back to the clinic to have more blood drawn. And while I was rehearsing, trying not to think about it, the technicians were analyzing my blood.

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