AuDHD & Pregnancy

Twenty-four weeks.

I've quietly been growing a little girl while also trying to grow a business, support clients, parent Milo, and navigate what has been one of the hardest years of my life. I've shared bits and pieces privately, but not publicly. The truth is, being pregnant as a neurodivergent person has been incredibly difficult.

Physically, pregnancy is hard. But for me, it's my brain that has found it the hardest. Everything feels amplified.

Pain.

Fatigue.

Hunger.

The constant changes happening inside my body.

As someone who already experiences the world differently through sensory processing and interoception, pregnancy has felt all-consuming. My brain struggles to filter it out. Every sensation demands my attention.

Then there are the mental changes.

My thoughts rarely leave pregnancy. Sometimes that's beautiful. I could spend hours organising tiny clothes, researching baby products, or imagining life with our little girl. It genuinely brings me joy. But that same focus can become all-encompassing, pushing everything else into the background.

Alongside that has come the reality of what this means for my identity.

• How will work look?

• How will life change as a family of four?

• How do I prepare my business for maternity leave?

• Who will I be after she arrives?

And underneath all of that has been grief. This pregnancy came so quickly after losing our baby in January.

The first twenty weeks were filled with anxiety. Every scan felt like holding my breath. Private scanning clinics probably made a small fortune from me, and honestly... I don't regret a single visit. The reassurance was worth every penny.

Even now, I don't think I've fully allowed myself to celebrate. Last week was the due date of the baby we lost. The week before would have been the week of my planned C-section. For the first time in months, my brain stopped trying to stay busy.

I cried for the baby we never got to meet. The life we had imagined. The sibling we thought we'd be bringing home for Milo. For once, I didn't try to balance that grief with "but you're pregnant now."

Both things can exist at the same time. I can be overwhelmingly grateful for the little girl growing inside me while still deeply mourning the baby we lost.

Neither feeling takes away from the other.

If you've noticed I've been quieter online, slower replying to emails, posting less, or simply seeming less present, this is why.

I haven't lacked passion. I've lacked capacity. As neurodivergent people, capacity isn't just about time. It's about how much our brains are already holding.

Mine has been holding a lot.

I'm looking forward to sharing more of this journey as I continue navigating pregnancy, neurodivergence, motherhood, and business. Because these conversations matter, and they're still not talked about nearly enough.

And to our little girl...

We can't wait to meet you. 💗