Content warning: Mentions of self harm.
They say it takes a village to raise a baby. For me it took a psychologist, a psychiatrist, a team of nurses, my in-laws and my partner’s full-time care just make it through the first two months. Having a baby at the best of times is never easy, but as someone with bipolar mood disorder, I was also confronted with a very high chance of postnatal anxiety and depression.
My partner, Andrew, and I knew this going into the pregnancy. Even the pregnancy itself was a risky time because I couldn’t be on my bipolar medication while pregnant. So we prepared. My psychologist put me in contact with a psychiatrist who specialises in pregnancy and new mothers. That psychiatrist was connected to a hospital that had a mother and baby unit (MBU) where new mothers struggling with mental health issues could get the care they need while still being with their babies. So before even trying for a baby, we got the best healthcare coverage we could afford to ensure I would get access to the MBU.
Even so, those first eight weeks with our son, Charlie, were some of the hardest of my life. Getting up every three hours to feed and change a baby is a unique kind of torture for all new parents. For me, however, sleep deprivation also had a profound impact on my mental health.
Getting up every three hours to feed and change a baby is a unique kind of torture for all new parents
In that time, I developed a crippling fear that I would accidentally kill Charlie. So much so that I became too afraid to hold him. As a result, my partner had to do 100 per cent of the care work. Not being able to be there for my newborn and struggling with breastfeeding sent me to a dangerous headspace. At the height of my postnatal depression, I struggled with suicidal ideation and ended up overdosing twice.
The self-harm attempts landed me in hospital. Since this all happened on the back of COVID lockdowns, I wasn’t allowed visitors. Over the Christmas holidays of 2021, I found myself spending five nights away from my new family while I waited for the mother and baby unit to open up in the new year.
The Mothercraft nurses teach you how to feed, change, bathe and look after your baby until you gain enough confidence to do it yourself
It was at the MBU that things finally turned a corner. I was in a hospital, in a ward that specialises in mental health and mood disorders for new mothers. The ward itself is homely, where patients have their own rooms and bathrooms to share with their partners and babies. There’s a kitchen and laundry and classes during the day, where staff taught us strategies on how to manage our depression and anxiety while our babies are being watched by Mothercraft nurses.
The Mothercraft nurses also teach you how to feed, change, bathe and look after your baby until you gain enough confidence to do it yourself. In addition, the nurses look after your baby at night while you get enough rest to feel well again. Meals are prepared for all mothers during their stay. In an ideal world, all new parents should have access to something similar.
My favourite part of being in the MBU was going for a morning walk with the other new mums. We would all line up, prams at the ready, and go for a morning stroll to get a coffee in the local park. Meeting others who were also struggling with new motherhood made the experience less lonely. That small cup of coffee made me feel like myself again.
Madalene and Charlie at the Mother and Baby Unit. Source: Supplied
I’m grateful about my time there. Being in the MBU meant I got better, faster and I could start enjoying motherhood. If I didn’t have the MBU I would’ve been in a pit of depression and anxiety for so long and deep that I don’t think I would’ve been able to crawl out of it alone.
It also helps to have a strong support network at home. My partner, Andrew, really looked after Charlie and me in the beginning, while I was unwell. Plus, since we live with my in-laws, they were able to lend a hand, too.
Now, a year on, my relationship with motherhood has shifted. Charlie is growing up to be a sweet and affectionate boy. I’m surprised by how rewarding parenthood can be.
Sometimes, when I go to the hospital for my monthly appointments with my psychiatrist, I’ll see the line of new MBU mothers and their prams walking around the park. Clutching my coffee, I’ll give them a knowing smile. One that says, “Don’t worry. I’m an MBU graduate. It gets better. It gets easier. Until one day it becomes the best thing you’ve ever done.”
For help with perinatal anxiety and depression, call PANDA (Perinatal Anxiety & Depression Australia) on 1300 726 306 or visit . For 24/7 mental health support, call Beyond Blue on 1300 224 636 or visit . For 24/7 crisis support, call . For support in your language, visit who support people from culturally and linguistically diverse backgrounds.
