08/24/2026
There is something I need to say about the Lindsay Clancy case, both as a former RN and as someone who has personally struggled with postpartum mental health.
I left nursing a few years ago because of my own mental health struggles. After my third baby, I experienced postpartum depression and anxiety, along with suicidal ideation and intrusive thoughts of harming my children. I won't share the details of those thoughts publicly, but I will say this: it was terrifying.
Thankfully, I got the help I needed. I found medication that worked for me and I am in a good place today. That is why this case has affected me so deeply. I see parts of myself in Lindsay that I wish I didn't recognize.
I have an enormous amount of empathy for her and I do not judge her for the mental illness she experienced. Having empathy for Lindsay does not mean I condone what happened to her children. Nothing can change the fact that three children died and they deserved to be protected.
But I also don't believe that finding Lindsay criminally responsible is the answer. The question of criminal responsibility is a legal one and so much has to be considered surrounding her mental state at the time.
The court of public opinion has already rendered its verdict and I think we need to be very careful about what that says to mothers who are struggling right now.
Because one of the most terrifying parts of experiencing severe postpartum mental illness can be the fear of what will happen if you tell someone.
Will they take my children?
Will they think I'm a bad mother?
Will they think I'm dangerous?
Will I be hospitalized?
Will everyone look at me differently?
I understand why someone might not share the exact nature of every thought they're experiencing with a healthcare provider. That doesn't mean the thoughts aren't there. It means the person may be terrified of what honesty will cost them.
And that is why I believe healthcare providers have to do more than simply check a box.
If a mother says she is having suicidal thoughts, we need to ask the right questions. We need to build enough trust that she feels safe answering honestly. We need to understand the content, frequency, intensity and progression of those thoughts rather than assuming that the absence of a specific plan means there is no immediate danger.
Because thoughts can change. A person can go from "I don't have a plan" to having a plan. Sometimes all it takes is a moment.
I also want to say something that has become increasingly disturbing to me as I have watched the discussion surrounding this case.
I have seen mothers who express empathy for Lindsay being called abusive parents themselves. I've seen people say they should have their own children taken away simply because they acknowledge that severe mental illness can profoundly alter someone's thoughts, perception and behavior.
That response actually reinforces the very stigma I'm talking about.
If a mother sees what happened in this case and thinks, "I understand how someone could become that unwell because I have experienced postpartum mental illness myself," and the response is "Then you shouldn't be allowed to have children," why would any struggling mother ever feel safe telling the truth?
This is exactly why mental health stigma is so dangerous. We cannot tell mothers, "Please speak up when you aren't okay," while simultaneously threatening them with judgment, shame or losing their children when they do.
And I'm glad if you have never experienced intrusive thoughts about harming yourself or your children. Truly. But just because you didn't experience them doesn't mean others don't. I did. Thank God I got help. Thank God the first medications I tried worked for me. Thank God my story turned out differently.
But the fact that my story turned out differently doesn't make someone else's situation identical to mine. And the fact that someone else experienced similar thoughts and never harmed their children does not, by itself, tell us what was happening inside Lindsay's mind.
I know my statement will be deeply uncomfortable for some people. I understand that. But compassion and accountability are not mutually exclusive.
My hope is that this case becomes a wake-up call—not just about Lindsay, but about postpartum mental health as a whole.
We need to create a healthcare system where asking for help doesn't feel like the most dangerous thing a mother can do.
I will be turning comments off on this post.
Not because I don't believe people are allowed to have differing opinions about this case. They absolutely are.
But the conversation surrounding this case has become incredibly nasty and I will not engage in or provide a platform for hateful, cruel or threatening comments—toward Lindsay, her children, healthcare providers or mothers who have shared their own experiences.
We can disagree about this case. We can have difficult conversations about justice, accountability, mental illness and the healthcare system.
But we can do that without dehumanizing people.
And if we truly want mothers to feel safe enough to say, "I'm not okay," we have to start there.
💕 Hi! I'm Sarah. I'm a certified pediatric sleep consultant, former RN and mom of 4 who's passionate about helping families get better sleep and post partum mental health. Follow along for realistic sleep advice with zero judgement.
