08/14/2026
I keep coming back to one question in the Lindsay Clancy case..
If evidence were ever to show that someone other than Lindsay was responsible for the deaths of those children, after years of the public being told that a postpartum woman committed an unimaginable act because of her mental illness.. do we truly understand the magnitude of that injustice? Not just to Lindsay. To women everywhere. To maternal healthcare. And potentially to generations of women who will seek that care after us.
There is something particularly disturbing about the possibility of taking one of the most vulnerable medical periods in a woman’s life and turning it into the explanation for one of the most gruesome things a human being can do. Pregnancy, birth and postpartum already place women in an incredibly vulnerable position physically, hormonally, emotionally and psychologically. Postpartum depression, postpartum anxiety, postpartum OCD and postpartum psychosis are maternal health conditions. They are ILLNESSES. They are not character flaws or moral failures. And they should never become shorthand for a mother capable of murdering her children. Because once society makes that association, women carry it. Every mother who experiences an intrusive thought carries it. Every woman who experiences hallucinations or paranoia carries it. Every mother sitting across from her OB, midwife, therapist, nurse or psychiatrist deciding whether she feels safe enough to tell the entire truth about what is happening inside her mind carries it.
That is where the damage extends far beyond one criminal case. Women already ask themselves:
“Will they think I’m dangerous? Will they take my baby? Will CPS become involved? Will they hospitalize me? Will anyone understand that an intrusive thought is not the same thing as wanting to act on it?” And when the public image of postpartum psychosis becomes intertwined with the murder of children, those fears do not disappear. They grow exponentially. Women become more afraid to disclose symptoms. Providers may become more fearful or reactionary when women disclose them. Families may misunderstand symptoms. Mothers may minimize what they are experiencing until they are in a true psychiatric emergency. And ultimately, women may receive worse care because they no longer feel safe enough to be completely honest with the people who are supposed to help them. That is why the stakes are so much larger than one courtroom.
If it were ever proven that another person committed these crimes while a woman’s postpartum mental health history was allowed to carry the blame, the injustice would be almost impossible to measure. Because then a maternal health crisis would have been transformed into the perfect scapegoat. And the consequences would not end with one woman. The image would remain. The headlines would remain. The association between maternal mental illness and unimaginable violence would remain. Women for years to come could walk into postpartum appointments carrying the weight of a crime they had absolutely nothing to do with. Wondering whether admitting to frightening thoughts will make someone look at them differently. That is an injustice women should never have to inherit.
As a doula and maternal health advocate, this does not sit right with me. My work puts me in spaces where women are at their most vulnerable. I have seen how much trust it takes for a mother to admit that she is struggling. I understand how much courage it can take to say, something is wrong, I am scared, I need help. That trust matters to me deeply. So does protecting the way we talk about maternal mental illness. This is something I intend to keep speaking about long after the public attention surrounding this court case fades, regardless of the verdict. Because my concern is bigger than one defendant, one husband, one courtroom, or one headline. It is about what women are taught to believe about themselves when they experience a postpartum mental health crisis, or whether the next mother feels safe enough to tell the truth. This is about whether our healthcare system responds to that truth with compassion and competent care instead of fear, judgment or suspicion. And it is about refusing to let some of the most painful and vulnerable conditions women can experience become permanently synonymous with violence.
Postpartum psychosis is real. It is serious. It is a medical emergency and deserves immediate, competent treatment. But acknowledging that reality does not mean we should allow maternal mental illness to become an explanation simply because it makes a horrifying story easier to understand. A psychiatric diagnosis should never substitute for evidence. Intrusive thoughts are NOT intentions. Mental illness is NOT criminality. A diagnosis of any capacity is NOT guilt. And a maternal health crisis should never be made into a permanent indictment of motherhood itself.
The way we handle these conversations now will influence whether the next woman struggling postpartum feels safe enough to ask for help. And if women learn that revealing the darkest symptoms of maternal mental illness can make the world see them as monsters, we should not be surprised when they stop telling us the truth. That is not progress in women’s healthcare. That is an immense failure within it.
