Navigating Neurodivergence: My Story as an ADHD Mom to an Autistic Child

I was diagnosed with “ADD” when I was seven years old.  I believe that diagnosis doesn’t exist anymore & is now just diagnosed as ADHD, so I adapted to that. At the time, I was struggling in school - staying on task, following directions, and paying attention felt impossible. My older brother had already been diagnosed, and honestly, I think the only reason anyone looked into me was because of him. Back then, girls were rarely diagnosed, and even when they were, it wasn’t always understood.

I’ve basically known my whole life that I was “different,” but I didn’t really explore what my diagnosis meant or how I could support myself until adulthood. I’ve spent years masking, especially around new people, but as I’ve grown older, I’ve been learning to let that go. I’m leaning into being myself more and more…quirks, chaos, and all. 

In March 2020 (yes, THE March 2020), my husband and I welcomed our first baby into this world. From that moment on our son became the center of our universe. I truly think my husband and I were made to parent together. We make an amazing team in every way, and I owe so much to him for where I am at in this journey. 

I noticed my son’s neuro-differences before he was even a year old. While doctors assured me everything was "fine" and not to worry, my instincts told me otherwise. Before we even got an appointment with a developmental Pediatrician, I was already researching therapies, finding resources, and paying out of pocket for support. (Spoiler Alert: My intuition was spot on - who would have thought??)

Since my son’s autism diagnosis, I have been curious about my own diagnosis, and even considered being re-evaluated. I see a lot of myself in my boy, and notice many shared traits. As it stands, I have a lot on my plate, the wait lists are long, and I don’t think getting an updated diagnosis will change anything for me. But that curiosity has grown alongside my journey as a mother to a non-speaking autistic child. This journey has shaped me in ways I never expected. I truly do not recognize the person I was before I had my son. He has taught me so much about myself, and life in general, and I am so thankful to get to be his mom.

One of the harder realities of this journey is that no one walks you through it.  In any 

Way.

Shape.

Or Form.

There is no guide-book. In our case, he was diagnosed, and we were sent on our way with advice to “look into different therapies!” Cool, Cool. Got it. When you have a child with high support needs, you have to become your own expert, your child’s advocate, and their biggest champion. My husband and I have poured everything we have into making sure our son has every possible resource he needs to thrive. Every day, we work to keep him regulated, supported, and happy. And it shows...he’s the happiest, sweetest boy. Gentle and cuddly, a great sleeper, a great eater, and absolutely radiant with joy. He’s living proof that the stereotypes about Level 3 autistic children are painfully wrong.

But two things can be true at once: this journey hasn’t been easy. There have been tears, challenges, and days where I’ve felt like I was failing. I used to spiral into panic attacks about the future—especially wondering who would care for him when I’m gone. (Shout-out to Lexapro for helping me breathe again.)

These days, I’m learning to take things one step at a time. To prepare and plan for each day. To remind myself that I can only control what I can control, and honestly that’s enough.

Social media has been one of the biggest reasons my husband and I have been able to afford (and even find) the resources our son needs. The income from my content has been such a blessing, and if I don’t say it enough: thank you. Truly. Your support means the world to me.

Creating content for you brings me so much joy, but it’s also deeply personal. I know how hard it can be to access crucial therapies for kids like my son, and that’s why I’m committed to sharing what I’ve learned along the way. If something I post helps even one family’s days run a little smoother, I’m happy.

You will never find me advocating for or promoting dangerous detoxes. If that is the type on information you are after, you will not find it here. Want regulation techniques? Picky-eating tips? Sensory Activities? I'm your girl. Heavy Metal Detox drops or hyperbaric chambers? Nope. Don't recommend that to me or ask me about it. 

I’m not an “expert” by any means, but I’ve spent countless hours researching, learning, and trying techniques that have made a real difference for us. Anything I share will be fact-backed, research-based proven methods. My hope is that by passing any helpful thing's I've found along, they can make a difference for you, too.

My son doesn’t speak (yet) and doesn’t have a reliable form of communication (yet). (We are working on it though. He started speech therapy at 18 months and has gone at least weekly ever since.) He is on his own, unique path and will do things in his own time. He always has, and always will. I know he is far more brilliant than he’s currently able to show. Too often, people like him have been judged as if the inability to speak or coordinate motor movements easily somehow reflects their intelligence. It doesn’t…not even close. 

Finally, one of my favorite realities of this journey has been finding myself along the way. Watching my son unapologetically be himself has encouraged me to do the same. I embrace my traits, I learn, and I teach others through my experiences. My love for him fuels everything I do :') I’d give him the world if I could, or at the very least, help make the world a better place for all neurodivergent children & adults.

That’s what this blog is for. To share, to connect, to advocate, and to make space for neurodivergent voices — mine, his, and yours too. Thanks for being here.

Xoxo,

Kaelah