The Postpartum Struggles We’re Afraid to Talk About

In recent weeks, postpartum mental health has become a topic of conversation for millions of people following the Lindsay Clancy case. Many of us may find ourselves asking: Why are so many people so invested in this case? Why does it affect people so deeply?

I think part of the answer is uncomfortable, but it's important to shed some light on it.

So many mothers have experienced what it feels like when the system fails them, or when they are too scared to even try to use it. So many women have experienced a postpartum period that was much harder than they ever imagined, and so many mothers have had thoughts and/or feelings that they were too embarrassed, ashamed, or afraid to share with anyone.

For some, watching this case has brought those memories back.

I can speak from my own experience when I say that nothing truly prepares you for postpartum. I say that as someone who has continued my education in areas related to postpartum care. I have taken classes on it and am in a field with plenty of resources related to it at my fingertips. I have learned about postpartum depression and anxiety, and I have learned about the warning signs and the importance of support. And still, there are things you simply cannot understand until you experience them. There were days in my own postpartum experience that I had difficulty identifying what was real and what was intrusive thinking or anxiety creeping up.

There is something incredibly surreal about becoming a mother while simultaneously feeling like you are no longer completely yourself. Your body has changed, your hormones are changing rapidly, your sleep disappears, your responsibilities multiply overnight, and somehow, you are expected to be grateful, happy, present, loving, and completely in control.

Mothers put an enormous amount of pressure on themselves to be perfect parents. We are told to cherish every moment, be thankful, enjoy the newborn stage, bond with your baby, take care of yourself, take care of your partner in your marriage, keep the house together, and be present, all while needing to hurry back and return to work.

And somewhere in the middle of all of that, many mothers are simply trying to hold themselves together. The hardest part is that postpartum struggles don't always look the way we expect them to. A mother can love her baby deeply and still struggle. She can be grateful and still feel overwhelmed. She can smile in pictures and still be falling apart internally. She can be an incredible mother and still need help. Those things can exist all at the same time.

I think that's one of the biggest misconceptions surrounding postpartum mental health. We sometimes create this idea that if a mother is struggling, it must mean she doesn't love her child enough or isn't grateful for the life she has. But mental health doesn't work that way at all, and that is an unethical way to look at it.

Having difficult or frightening thoughts doesn't automatically make someone a bad mother. Experiencing a postpartum mental health condition isn't a moral failure. And asking for help shouldn't require a mother to first reach a breaking point.

What worries me most is how many mothers are afraid to be completely honest about what they're experiencing. As a therapist, when I went into my 6-week appointment, I remember knowing that my glad 7 scale was about to be high. I even thought for a moment, should I fill this out honestly? If I do, will they be worried about how fit I am as a parent? Far too often, we worry about these things instead of thinking about the importance of the help we may need.

What happens when a new mother is afraid to say, I'm not okay? What happens when she's afraid that admitting she's struggling will cause people to judge her? What happens when she worries that someone will think she's incapable of being a mother? What happens when she finally reaches out, but doesn't feel heard? These are conversations we need to have.

The postpartum period deserves more than a checklist at the doctor's office. It deserves more than asking a mother, "Are you feeling depressed?" and moving on to the next question. It requires us to actually listen. It requires us to create spaces where mothers can tell the truth without immediately feeling ashamed. And it requires us to understand that postpartum mental health is not one-size-fits-all.

Perhaps this case forces us to examine the larger system surrounding mothers. Are we doing enough? Are we making it easy enough for mothers to ask for help? Are healthcare providers equipped to recognize when someone needs more than a routine checkup? Do mothers know where to turn when their thoughts become frightening or overwhelming? And perhaps most importantly, do mothers believe that they can tell someone the truth without being punished for it? The hard thing to grasp in this case is that Lindsay Clancy did advocate; she vocalized her negative thoughts to so many providers and trusted individuals in her life, and the system still failed to support her.

We need to make it okay for mothers to say, "This is harder than I thought." We need to make it okay to say, "I don't feel like myself." We need to make it okay to say, "I need help."And we need to listen when they do and jump in to help when possible. Because behind the statistics and headlines are real women who are trying to navigate one of the biggest transitions of their lives. Sometimes what a mother needs most isn't another reminder to be grateful or to be told she’ll get past this feeling.

Sometimes she needs someone to sit beside her and say:  You don't have to do this alone.

Written by Zoe Nasios LCSW-C August 17th 2026