postnatal anxiety

Postnatal Anxiety Made Me Do Weird Sh*t

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I’ve always been a bit of a nut , so I wasn’t particularly shocked when the Buzzfeed quiz Edinburgh Postnatal Depression Scale (EPDS) my GP made me do came back with an A* for postnatal anxiety.

However, what was surprising was the ways in which my Postnatal anxiety manifested itself*, and how it was actually different from my Original™ flavoured anxiety. Here’s a favourite memory of mine, that I like to call…

“The Yoghurt”

After the ICU and all that craziness, I was on the maternity ward for a few days, albeit sans baby. I developed an almost pavlovian response to the sound of the snacks trolley wheels squeaking down the hall. Every 4 hours or so, a lovely Kiwi woman would offer me warm milo and biscuits (that I swear smelled like my daughter) and/or a pot of yoghurt.

As I was pumping round the clock, I was RAVENOUS and once I began collecting colostrum I was convinced it was the yoghurt that had done it!

Heading home as a family of two plus my mum coming to stay and with a baby still in the NICU, to say I was frazzled is a bit of an understatement.

In a (rare)moment of clarity, I decided to put through a Coles order online to ease some stress. It included:

  • 3 tubes of toothpaste
  • 48 rolls of toilet paper
  • 3 packets of scotch finger biscuits
  • 4 kilos of Brownes Vanilla Yoghurt
  • 2x 100pk Tetley decaf teabags

Yes, that’s right.

4 kilos of yoghurt.

What kind of war on bad gut bacteria was I trying to wage?! (To be fair, yogurt is one of those foods that reduce anxiety.) The thing is I told neither my Mum nor my husband what I’d purchased before we went to click and collect it at our local supermarket so when they opened the bags they fell about laughing.

I can totally see the logic in my warped, doomsday-prepper thinking though, in the absence of any ingredients to make a meal, I was trying to make sure that I could make milk for my baby.

I comfort ate biscuits and tea because the smell reminded me of her tiny little coconut head.

Now somewhere, this cursed order lives on in the form of a receipt- I think we actually shoved it in the back of my daughter’s baby book somewhere, to show what a damn girl scout her mum was.

Ever get up to any postnatal oddness due to anxiety?

*Very aware that this is an extremely light-hearted example

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