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By Wendy M. Yurgo

I have written about death too many times. I don’t want to write another column about dead children. I especially don’t want to write one about children murdered by the person God entrusted first with protecting them.

But I cannot watch what is happening around the Lindsay Clancy case and stay silent.

Cora was five. Dawson was three. Callan was eight months old.

Their mother killed them.

Those are the facts that should stop us cold. Instead, I’ve watched hundreds of people gather outside a courthouse dressed in pink to support Lindsay Clancy. I’ve watched them make hearts with their hands. I’ve watched her attorney get applauded. I’ve read post after post full of sympathy and identification that centers almost completely on her suffering while three small children are already dead.

And I keep asking the same question.

Where are the children?

I understand compassion. I understand mental illness. I understand that postpartum psychosis is real and can destroy a person. I understand that criminal responsibility and moral horror aren’t always the same legal question. I’m an attorney. I don’t need anyone explaining the insanity defense to me.

I’m also a mother.

And three children are dead.

There comes a point where compassion gets so twisted that we lose the innocent. I think we’ve hit it.

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After the mistrial, while prosecutors talked about continuing the case, someone shouted, “You only cared when the kids were dead. Why didn’t you care about the mother?”

I read that sentence over and over.

Because the kids were dead.

Of course we should care about a mother in psychiatric crisis. We should care long before she reaches the point of hurting herself or her children. We should care enough to catch the warning signs, take families seriously and get treatment in place while it can still save lives.

But once three children have been killed, I refuse to accept that putting those children at the center somehow means we lack compassion for women.

Something is badly wrong when that even has to be said.

And this isn’t happening in isolation.

In just the last several months, there have been case after case involving children killed by their mothers or in alleged murder-suicides involving their mothers. In Massachusetts, two children were found dead and their mother was charged with their murders. In Arizona, police say a mother shot and killed her 10-year-old son and 18-month-old daughter before killing herself. In Texas, police say a mother shot her two young children and then herself.

Then there is New York. Four siblings, ages 13, 11 and 10-year-old twins, were found dead in June in what police described as a planned murder-suicide involving their mother and grandmother.

Four children in one family.

And now there is a two-year-old little boy named Barrett in Illinois.

Barrett’s case should make all of us uneasy.

Prosecutors say his mother, Corie Walsh, had gotten deeply invested in the Clancy trial. They say she was texting friends about it just hours before Barrett was found hanging in the basement. She has been charged with first-degree murder. Those allegations have not been proven in court.

I’m not saying Lindsay Clancy caused Barrett Walsh’s death. There’s no evidence of that, and it would be wrong to claim it.

But I am asking if anyone is willing to look at the culture we’re building around these cases.

We know how people work. Notoriety matters. Social media amplifies things. Strangers form communities around people they’ve never met. Defendants turn into celebrities. Trials turn into entertainment. Algorithms take the darkest things that happen and turn them into movements.

So what happens when a woman who killed her three children stops being just a defendant whose mental state needs careful attention and becomes a symbol instead?

What happens when people show up in matching colors for her? When thousands of strangers start identifying with her? When the entire story becomes Lindsay’s pain, her illness, her treatment, her defense, her supporters, her future?

Where are Cora, Dawson and Callan?

There’s another question almost no one wants to touch.

What if Lindsay Clancy had been a man?

Picture a father who strangled his five-year-old daughter, his three-year-old son and his eight-month-old baby.

Now picture hundreds of men outside the courthouse in matching shirts standing with him. Heart signs. Applause for his lawyer. Posts everywhere about how other fathers deeply relate to him. People raising money and organizing around his cause.

Would we call that compassion?

Or would it sicken us?

We already know the answer.

Women deserve compassion. Mothers deserve compassion. Women in the grip of postpartum psychiatric illness need compassion and real treatment.

But compassion does not mean we go blind.

My Christian faith keeps telling me something this culture seems less and less able to hold. Mercy and truth are not opposites. You can have deep compassion for a broken person and still refuse to pretend that what happened was anything less than evil and horrific.

Jesus never taught us to get to mercy by throwing out the truth.

There’s a truth here that should sit above politics, ideology, gender and every debate about mental health.

Children are precious.

They are defenseless.

They are supposed to be safe with us.

A five-year-old can’t speak for herself. A three-year-old can’t organize a rally. An eight-month-old can’t tell us what happened. A two-year-old can’t describe his fear.

They can’t post on TikTok. They can’t do interviews. They can’t talk about their trauma or build a following or give their side of the story.

They’re dead.

We’re the only voices they have left.

That’s why I will not take part in any conversation that turns murdered children into background characters in the story of the adult who killed them.

Talk about postpartum psychosis. We should.

Push for better treatment. Yes.

Ask the hard questions about criminal responsibility. That’s what courts are for.

Have compassion for Lindsay Clancy. My faith requires it even when it’s hard.

But do not turn her into a hero.

Do not build a movement around the person who murdered the children.

And stop asking why some of us keep talking about the kids.

Cora.

Dawson.

Callan.

Barrett.

And all the others whose names most people will never hear.

Their mothers have plenty of advocates.

The children need witnesses.

I will stand with the children.

About the Author

Wendy M. Yurgo is a Christian, attorney, entrepreneur, and the Founder and CEO of Revere Payments, a conservative fintech company serving many of the nation’s leading faith based and freedom driven organizations. She writes about where faith collides with the systems shaping our culture, bringing a legal and executive lens to the most urgent issues of our time. Her work is rooted in light, guided by principle, and grounded in truth. Follow Wendy on Instagram @wendyyurgo and X @paymentsSHEEO.