The next few months were a roller coaster of good and difficult times. Emily and her husband Eric found themselves in the presence of different professionals who often provided a glimmer of hope- but ultimately lead to more dead ends.
With all other options exhausted, Emily and her husband turned to a Mental Hospital where Emily stayed for a number of days. Though relevant in its proclamation, this hospital did not accommodate the specific needs of those mothers who experience perinatal mood disorders. Rather these mothers found themselves with individuals suffering from an array of mental illnesses much unlike their own.
Upon her release from the hospital, Emily had a few really great days at home with her family. I remember seeing her with her famous side ponytail that I secretly tried to emulate but never could quite pull off.
We talked, and she was the the Emily I’ve always known; kind, fun, and graceful. I’ve often wished that I could just give her a big hug instead of talking about the trivial things we talked about. On February 24th, Emily felt the symptoms of her diagnosis return with force. She sought a safe place, and opted visit her parents.
As her father was driving her home, Emily began to experience an extreme panic attack.
Her father pulled the car over to try and comfort her, but simultaneously Emily fled to escape the collapsing feeling she was experiencing and ran, disoriented, into oncoming traffic on a busy interstate where she was fatally struck on impact. She left behind five children her husband, parents, brothers, sisters, nieces, and nephews and after witnessing the outpour of love and attendance at her funeral- scores of friends who miss her terribly.
Her story has initiated a movement. One that can no longer be whispered or approached nonchalantly.
