“I sat on the end of the emergency room bed, feet dangling, feeling like a wrung out washcloth. Before me, a doctor asked questions and took notes. I told him the truth, but I tried to avoid his eyes. How did this happen?
I never expected to be at Georgetown Hospital—the same place I’d delivered my daughter only weeks before—answering questions about whether I had thoughts of harming myself or my baby. It was the last place I wanted to be on that autumn night, especially as my husband held our beautiful daughter. But I knew this visit was necessary.”
Continue reading Shay’s story.