I think back to August 1980. I had a newborn baby, and at almost the same time, new mother Lindy Chamberlain accused a dingo of taking her baby from a tent in the Australian Outback. Later, she was found guilty of murdering her 9-week-old baby daughter, Azaria. This case was replete with conspiracy stories. Was she shielding her son and her husband? Did Azaria’s name mean sacrifice?

As a new first-time mom, I wanted to blame Lindy. I was high on post-birth hormones. It wasn’t only about Azaria; it was about protecting my baby. I truly wanted revenge. I wanted her to rot in jail.

She did go to jail. Years later, her conviction was overturned, and she was ultimately exonerated.

Lindy Chamberlain’s name lives on in Australian folklore. An echo of this infamous Australian case is being replayed in the U.S. at this moment. I have taken the opportunity to think about how I responded to Lindy 46 years ago and how I think about Lindsay now.

Fast-forward to September 2026

The U.S. is in a frenzy.

Lindsay Clancy’s name is on everybody’s lips. She is on trial in Massachusetts on charges related to the deaths of her children, Cora (5), Dawson (3), and Callan (8 months), in January 2023. All the social media sites are clogged up with opinions, conspiracy theories, support, and venom. It’s impossible to get away from the conversation. Intense emotions, including fury, disbelief, judgement, blame, compassion, and vehement opposition, are colliding.

Up until now, I’ve been watching this media feast in astonishment as everyone is taking a bite of Lindsay’s life.

I think back to how I “knew” that Lindy was guilty and how I wasn’t measured or thoughtful. I wanted Lindy to suffer. I wonder how, unlike Margo in 1980, we can have respectful and reasonable conversations without being overtaken by unbridled emotions and binary thoughts. Can this tragedy become an opportunity to reflect on our values, our compassion, our rage, and the intrusive role of the media?

Where we are at this moment in time

What everyone may be able to agree on is that this is a tragedy of Shakespearean proportions. Maternal filicide has long been part of human experience. It has been represented throughout time immemorial in reality and in art forms such as drama, literature, film, and sculpture. Think Euripides’ Greek tragedy Medea, performed since 431 B.C.E.; Andrea Yates in Houston, Texas, in 2001; Lindy Chamberlain…

Of course, when a child dies, especially at the hands of his/her mother, the person who is meant to be his/her main protector, we are all rocked. We are shocked. Furious, we want blood. We cannot tolerate this rupture of the natural order. We are blinded by grief and unrestrained anger. Maybe if she’s locked up, we will be safe. Safe from our pain, our horror. Safe from our imaginings about Lindsay.

What can we learn from this?

• We must reset how we think about mothering. We need to honor and listen to mothers’ voices. They hold our most precious resource, our children, in their hands.
• Lindsay’s situation represents a raw truth. Mothers struggle. Life with dependent babies and children is tough. It’s arguably the most demanding and difficult job going. Mothers need support to keep themselves and their children safe.
• The behavior of mothers, both historically and culturally, attracts higher expectations, more intense punishment and blame, and often a pompous self-righteousness. This raises questions about whether even a reasonable observer can really offer sound commentary on the legal and psychological complexities of a case like this. How can most of society understand nuanced issues such as sentencing and intent? What about state of mind? It seems unlikely to me that we can, and I regard most of the commentary as an emotional outpouring of feelings. That’s fine, but let’s be clear about this distinction.
• Many women say they understand Lindsay’s plight. I’m not sure about that. We are all familiar with being at our wit’s end. Alone. Desperate. Wanting just a minute of peace. Feeling that we are drowning. But do we completely snap?
• The tragedy shines a light on the mental health epidemic that is contaminating the Western world. We need to give pause and consider where this is heading and how this media frenzy is pouring oil on, rather than relieving, our mental health problem.
• We all need to honestly examine our reactions and responses to this tragedy and figure out whether we are polarized. And if so, why?

The truth is as mothers we are all pushed to some sort of edge by our children at moments. Not Lindsay’s edge, a fed-up edge. Most of us come back from our edge. We pull through and hopefully learn from it, often shaken and grateful that we can go on.

Three innocent human lives have been eliminated. A family destroyed. A mother ruined, rightly or wrongly.

There are no winners here. As humans, we are all losers.

This is really a time to grieve this loss together rather than hide behind accusations and blame. And to think.

To be human, despite wondering in those minutes whether Lindsay was, and to strive to honor the memory of these children.