The Lingering Impact of Postpartum Anxiety

Recently, I was at a dinner and found myself seated next to a lovely woman. We got to chatting and, as so often happens, when I shared that I work in maternal mental health, she immediately opened up about her own postpartum struggles—nearly three decades ago. Later in the conversation, she mentioned she was preparing to start therapy with someone new, hoping to process emotions around becoming an empty nester and navigating relationships with her now adult children. She asked how I got into the work I do now.
I told her about my own experience with postpartum anxiety—how it wasn’t even on my radar until I found myself in the thick of it: brain fog, overwhelm, and an unexpected difficulty making even the simplest decisions. Her eyes widened and she leaned in. “YES,” she said. “I remember being SO overwhelmed in the grocery store one day, looking at all the formula and baby food choices. There were so many. I didn’t know what to choose. I felt completely frozen.”
It struck me—how many mothers carry memories like that. Simple moments, like a trip to the grocery store, become charged with stress and emotional weight. She went on to share that she still dislikes grocery shopping to this day and often asks her husband to do it. Even years later, the imprint of that postpartum experience remains—in her body, her preferences, her habits.
We talked about how those moments aren’t just uncomfortable—they’re often traumatic. We may not label them as trauma, but they imprint in the body much like a catastrophic event, leaving lasting emotional residue.
I asked if her new therapist uses EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing), a powerful tool for helping the nervous system process and release stuck memories—those that resurface and get retriggered by small, everyday moments. She was excited to share that her new therapist does practice EMDR. We both agreed it sounded like the perfect next step. I encouraged her to bring up the grocery store overwhelm as a potential target to process in therapy.
What we know from neuroscience and mind-body research is that memories tied to the same emotions are often stored in the same neural networks—often at a cellular level. I’m eager to hear what processing this experience might unlock for her. I see this kind of healing unfold every day in my practice, and it never ceases to amaze me.
What stayed with me after our conversation was how profoundly the perinatal experience can shape us—and how early challenges can quietly script our behaviors and beliefs for years to come. Yet so often, we don’t talk about it due to feelings of shame or inadequacy.
Maternal mental health challenges are deeply personal, yet incredibly common. And when we name our own experiences, we often give someone else the language they didn’t even know they needed.
It was a beautiful reminder: stories matter. Connection matters. And healing is possible—even years later.
Whether or not my new friend ever chooses to take back the grocery shopping, I hope she finds peace in those once-overwhelming aisles. I look forward to hearing how processing those early memories might ripple outward and support healing in her relationships with her children now.