Years ago, one of the steadiest people on my team came back from maternity leave changed: irritable, quick to complain, sharp with colleagues for no reason any of us could see. I had no name for it. Only later did I understand I had probably watched perinatal depression unfold, and that nobody around her, including me, knew what to look for.

Since then, with one daughter a psychiatrist and the other a psychotherapist, I have had an unusual education in the subject at my own dinner table. That is the lens I bring to the case of Lindsay Clancy.