For around two years prior to my journey into matrescence I'd been quietly gathering information on myself and investigating how my way of being seemed to share a lot in common with ADHD and Autistic neurotypes. My Instagram feed had increasingly been infiltrated by a steady flow of neurodivergent memes and stories of people's lived experiences, too many of which matched my own experiences for me to ignore. So I started writing notes on my phone whenever something resonated and before long ended up with an extensive list of behaviours and experiences which made me question if maybe I wasn't as neurotypical as I'd previously thought.
For some time I'd gone back and forth on whether it was worth seeking any formal confirmation of my suspicion. Self-diagnosis seemed to be valid and provide enough insight into helpful accommodations and management. Plus it wouldn't cost me financially to self-diagnose. Not to mention I hold a lot of distrust regarding institutions so I had reservations around the medicalised dysfunction/deficit focused approach of formal diagnosis.
After falling pregnant I sought out stories of neurodivergent perinatal experiences and was alarmed by how awful people's encounters were. An existing fear and distrust of the medical system meant I knew I wanted a homebirth early on. Hearing horror stories of the sensory, social and emotional hellscape that might await in hospital without the proper understanding and support solidified that desire. Convinced that I'd have a better chance of advocating for myself within a bureaucratic medical system if I had some papers signed off by a professional detailing my neurological differences, I was fortunate to undertake a timely ADHD and Autism assessment with an amazing neuro-affirming psychologist during my pregnancy confirming my AuDHD neurotype.
I'm grateful to have had a relatively uncomplicated and enjoyable pregnancy. After having read and listened to so many other late-diagnosed women's nightmarish experiences I was relieved that for the most part my neurodivergence manifested positively throughout my pregnancy journey.
The looming deadline of birth and weighty significance of having this growing life entrusted in my care motivated me tremendously throughout my pregnancy. I started seeing a psychologist for the first time in my life, overcame a needle phobia so I could finally sort out my iron levels with an infusion, started attending yoga again, and organised the house more thoroughly than ever before.
Certain sensory profiles of mine meant that I was hyper aware of my body from quite early which helped me feel deeply connected to bub and her movements, development, and wellbeing throughout the pregnancy. Despite the Internet suggesting foetal movements weren't typically felt until into the second trimester (especially with an anterior placenta supposedly), I'd felt flutters from the end of the first trimester. As my daughter grew I could also feel where she was in my womb to such an extent that when a nurse was trying to find her heartbeat during my iron infusion I was able to point to the exact spot where the Doppler would best locate it. I also accurately predicted the size of the little feet which had kicked me so much from inside the womb.
Transitional objects and fidgets which helped regulate and calm me were slowly replaced by having my hands on my growing belly and feeling the ever-stronger and more active foetal movements.
An additional benefit which revealed itself as my pregnancy progressed was having an acceptable reason to excuse myself from social situations, as well as providing an opportunity for me to work on identifying and communicating my needs more to others (something I'm still working on postpartum). It also presented an obvious topic of conversation once I looked undeniably pregnant which made it easier to connect and converse with a wider range of people, especially at the paint-and-sip sessions I facilitated at work.
My lifelong passion for learning and sense of justice got me hooked on all info related to pregnancy and birth, especially the prevalence of obstetric violence and lack of evidence-based care. I consumed every episode of The Midwives Cauldron, The Great Birth Rebellion, The Feeding Couch, Birth Time, and The Neurodivergent Birth Podcast, watched documentaries, trawled blogs, read books from Rachel Reed and Rhea Dempsey, and attended prenatal courses, info sessions and gatherings. This hyper-fixation meant that I felt confident in my knowledge navigating the medical system and making informed decisions, including pursuing a homebirth – even after I no longer qualified for the publicly funded program due to being "post-term" leading me to switch to private midwives incredibly last minute against all odds.
The change in hormones which many seem adversely affected by ended up doing the opposite of what I'd anticipated, resulting in possibly the best headspace and calmest mindset I've experienced thanks to more level emotional regulation and a quietening of my internal chatter. Even during the stress of making last-minute arrangements with a private midwife to avoid being left with no choice but to needlessly go to hospital I remained uncharacteristically calmer internally than might have otherwise been expected by such a drastic change to such significant plans.
When the time eventually came my experience of birth aligned with a few of the stories guests of The Neurodivergent Birth Podcast shared, with early labour being far worse than established active labour and with the multifaceted overwhelm also leading me to be relatively non-communicative and internal. I can only speculate how my much more challenging (and potentially traumatic) my birth story and postpartum recovery may have been had I been unable to have the homebirth I'd planned in the space I feel safest.
As I write this my daughter is two months old and I'm enjoying every moment of contact-naps with her resting on me like a weighted blanket. The memes in my feed about having a "security baby" as a social and sensory support out in the world are also really resonating. I've always had plush friends with me as fidgets and a way to connect or distract in social situations and now baby wearing and having my daughter with me are filling that role. We're also having fun together with baby babble echolalia and my endless vocal stims which manifest as repetitive songs for and about my baby Xyla.
My journey into motherhood hasn't been without its challenges, many of which I feel relate directly to my neurotype, but overall my experience (especially during the pregnancy) has been resoundingly positive! With the neurodivergent narrative often highlighting the deficits and difficulties, I hope that in sharing my story and the ways in which my AuDHD was an unexpected asset during my perinatal experience gives other neurodivergent birthing folk and soon-to-be parents some insight into how their unique way of being may also be unexpectedly advantageous and contribute to a joyful journey into parenthood.
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