One of mymothers (I have two)works at the Mississippi State Mental Hospital. She told me they have some sort of museum or archivesthere, and in it there is an admitting book that shows, among other patients, the women who were admitted shortly after childbirth and committed to the mental institution for the rest of their lives. Checked in and never checked out. This was not unusual in an era where there were no toll-free numbers, support groups and patient brochures about postpartum depression. Only the belief that these women were "hysterical" and probably weren't coming back from wherever their minds had gone.

I just came upon this poem from a blog called Life At Willow Manor. I don't know Willow, the author, personally, but her poem is so poignant and beautiful. It makes me long to hug all the women who were in hergreat grandmother's exactsituation. I'm so glad we've come a long way from that. She has given me permission to reprint it here.

Emma

Shadows of my family
hang from this stranger’s pensive smile,
like the locket and chain pinned
to her clean Victorian blouse.

Galena Kansas, branded
on the faded cabinet photo,
tags her face
as cattle marked for market.

She was committed, they told me;
endless days of silence,
absently pulling the chain of her shackle,
fenced in a dark corral.

I tell myself her smile
was tucked away,
resting in the hope chest
with her locket, chain and ruby slippers–

waiting for her tin man
and scarecrow to
link arms and steer her
along that yellow brick road to the sky.

From Willow: Emma was my great grandmother. She was committed to Central
State Hospital in Indianapolis shortly after the birth of her first
child, my grandmother, in 1914. It's tragic to think she might have
been institutionalized for life for something as simple as postpartum
depression.