What If I’d Known ABout My ADHD?
When I was a kid in the 1980s, ADHD in girls wasn’t a thing. That doesn’t mean we didn’t exist. It just means we live under patriarchy, so girls’ symptoms were invisible, and our struggles were mistaken for character flaws.
We were just missed.
How ADHD Shows Up Differently in Girls
Since ADHD manifests differently across genders, it was actually pretty easy for us to be missed.
While boys tend to show externalizing behaviors we can see like impulsivity and hyperactivity. Girls, on the other hand, tend to internalize our struggles. We become master adaptors, learning to mask our neurological differences with layers of:
Perfectionism - We believe if we're perfect enough, no one will notice our struggles
People-pleasing - We prioritize others' needs to avoid conflict and judgment
Rigid control systems - We create elaborate structures to compensate for executive function challenges
We learn to compensate, to "figure it out," until the dam inevitably bursts—which often happens in either postpartum or perimenopause, when hormonal fluctuations overwhelm our coping mechanisms.
The ADHD Diagnosis Gap
Unfortunately, we're frequently misdiagnosed with anxiety or depression instead of identifying the real culprit: ADHD.
Consider these statistics:
43% of women receive their ADHD diagnosis between the ages of 41 and 50
Postpartum depression rates are similarly stark: 17% of ADHD mothers versus 3.3% of others
Every statistic represents a life, a mother, a family navigating preventable suffering—women who navigated pregnancy, birth, and postpartum with a different kind of brain, and different needs, preferences, and desires that were often minimized, mocked, and ignored.
The "What If" Game
Sometimes I find myself wondering about the alternative reality. The life I might be living today if I'd known about my ADHD before pregnancy.
Would I have experienced crushing postpartum anxiety?
Would I have returned to work instead of leaving my career?
Would I still be married?
Would my children be different?
Would I be happier? Would they be?
The questions haunt me.
My Own (Undiagnosed) Experience
I remember the physical trauma of giving birth to my tiny 22-weeker with visceral clarity.
I remember the poking and prodding, the hopes and heartbreaks of infertility treatments.
I remember my body being cut open by a stranger, the tugging of surgical instruments, being pumped so full of drugs I couldn’t hold my newborn.
I remember shaking so violently I thought I might die.
I remember the awkward, inconsistent sensation of nursing that made me cringe.
I remember the blind anxiety I felt while driving with a screaming infant in the backseat while my heart raced so fast I worried I would have a heart attack.
I remember holding my baby through the night, sleepless and overwhelmed, because I couldn’t handle his crying… cries that weren’t just distress signals but triggers for my own sensory meltdown.
What Would Feel Different?
What would it feel like without the crushing guilt? Without the shame that whispered I was failing at the most fundamental human task? Something I had prayed and wished and begged the universe for.
What would it feel like to stop blaming myself, to recognize that trying harder wasn't the solution? That there was no trying hard enough that could make it easier. That I needed help rather than self-reproach?
What would it feel like to know there was nothing wrong with me... and nothing wrong with my baby? That I hadn't broken him already.
The Reddit Revelation
This line of questioning led me to Reddit the other morning. I was hoping to get insight into how pregnant people with ADHD and a diagnosis navigate their adventure.
I thread-hopped for hours and felt this weird mix of validation and envy:
Validation that I wasn't crazy and that my experiences were real
Envy that they KNOW. They have the words, the framework, and the understanding that I think would have changed everything for me
They brought up relatable and familiar topics like executive function crashes, sensory overwhelm, and emotional dysregulation. Many had their medications. And most importantly, they had each other.
I wonder how different things would have been for me if I'd had any of that. I wonder how different the world would be if we all had all of that.
The ADHD Pregnancy Experience
The themes that showed up paint a clear picture of what the ADHD pregnancy journey really looks like:
The Medication Paradox
The agonizing "stay on vs. go off" battle carries massive guilt either way.
Fear of being labeled "irresponsible" for continuing medication
Terror of becoming completely unfunctional without it
Research rabbit holes about medication safety
Conflicting medical advice
Horror stories about nurses who confuse prescription stimulants with illicit drugs
The Hormonal Rollercoaster
Some ADHD women find pregnancy surprisingly freeing.
Estrogen's dopamine-enhancing effects can temporarily lessen ADHD symptoms
Women with PMDD often enjoy pregnancy as a respite from monthly hormonal hell
But the postpartum crash hits us extra hard
As estrogen drops, ADHD symptoms intensify dramatically
Combine worsened executive function with sleep deprivation and new-mother responsibilities
The statistical correlation between ADHD and postpartum depression becomes tragically predictable
The Vanishing Executive Functions
Pregnancy ADHD creates a unique form of cognitive impairment.
Pregnancy brain fog when you've got ADHD is more than basic forgetfulness
It erodes whatever semblance of executive functions we started with
Simple tasks require Herculean effort
The ability to plan, organize, and follow through goes out the window completely
Usually replaced by self-loathing
Every Symptom is DOOM
ADHD anxiety amplifies normal pregnancy fears into catastrophic possibilities.
Your headache is definitely preeclampsia
That weird cramping is probably a miscarriage
The queasiness that was here yesterday but gone today obviously means your baby has stopped growing
Women with ADHD obsessively monitor symptoms
Worry about being judged for taking meds
Often label themselves as a "bad mom" before their baby has even arrived
The "Normal Pregnancy" Comparison Trap
We scroll social media and see those serene pregnancy photos—the glowing woman with the perfect baby bump, the organic smoothie, the peaceful meditation practice.
Meanwhile, we can barely remember to take our prenatal vitamins.
The comparison adds layers of shame on top of our pre-existing neurological challenges
When you've got RSD (rejection sensitive dysphoria), it feels like everyone is doing the mom thing way better
So you read more books and buy more stuff
You try harder
But nothing seems to work
The Support System SOS
What we need most is community—especially other neurodivergent parents who understand that:
Forgetting appointments isn't carelessness or being "airheaded"
It's neurobiology
Our brains work differently
Our struggles aren't moral failings—they're just neurological realities
You Don't Have to Figure This Out Alone
The ADHD Birth Class is specifically designed for parents like us.
This isn't just another class—it's the community you've been searching for, the understanding you've earned, and the roadmap you need.
Spots are limited to maintain the intimate, transformative experience every participant deserves. And to ease overwhelm and social discomfort.
Get on the waitlist now and be the first to claim your place when enrollment opens.
Stop worrying and start prepping—in a way that aligns with your needs, your desires, and your neurotype.