Neurodivergence, Newborns, and Compassion in a Culture of Comparison

I recently joined a few online groups for neurodivergent women. As someone late diagnosed with ADHD, I was looking for shared experiences, that feeling of “oh, it’s not just me.” Mostly, I read quietly, then I saw a post I couldn’t ignore.

A mother asked if anyone else had struggled in the newborn days. She described sensory overload. Feeling overstimulated by everything. Finding the intensity of caring for a newborn completely overwhelming. She struggled with frequent sensory meltdowns. Her child was 5 now, but she still thought about those early days and felt immense sadness.

My first response was empathy. I have been there. I also work with parents, and what I saw was a mother who did her best and she was admirable to share such raw feelings. I saw a mother who loved her child deeply and was looking for solidarity.

The comments really shocked me. 

There were three types. Those who understood and offered compassion. Those who said they could not relate and had loved every moment of the newborn stage. Then a number who were simply cruel. Some called her selfish. A terrible mother. A few even said she did not deserve children.

She had asked specifically for similar experiences.

I found myself wondering why so many felt the need to respond with the opposite. Was it a need to justify their own experience? Something about identity protection? And for those who were outright cruel, what was the purpose? Is it projection? Is it about having suffered and needing others to suffer too? Is it discomfort with vulnerability? Is it misogyny?

This was the first time, in this particular online space, I’d seen such negative responses. It’s usually a hugely positive group. What is it about parenting and its various choices and challenges that causes such a response? 

I told her what I believed she needed to hear. That I understood. She was a wonderful mother navigating a nervous system that was deeply overwhelmed, and she was deserving of compassion and care. 

In my work and in my life, I try to lead with compassion. I often support parents whose choices are different from mine. Their journey is not my own. I have not lived their life, and I do not need to in order to respect it. Yet as parents, particularly mothers, we seem to spend so much time justifying ourselves.

I believe one of the biggest contributors to perinatal distress is the pressure to fit into boxes that were never designed for us. That pressure comes from everywhere. Friends. Family. Media. Even healthcare messaging. But nothing is one size fits all. When we try to force ourselves into someone else’s template, we often end up feeling like the failure. We are not. My experience is my own. My journey is my own. My views are my own. And yours are too.

Feeding for example, can be easy for some, hard for others, beautiful for some, distressing for others. It can strengthen connection. It can strain it. All of those experiences are real and valid. Feeding is deeply personal. My concern is never the method, but whether the parent feels supported and free in their choice.

There is another part of this that I cannot stop thinking about. What are we teaching our children if we believe that being a “good” mother means constantly putting ourselves last? If we normalise misery. If we hide our own discomfort because that is what we think we are supposed to do.

Of course parenting involves sacrifice. Of course there are times when our needs come second. But if we always silence ourselves, always push through, always tell ourselves we do not matter as much, what are we modelling? Are we quietly teaching our children that their needs should not matter one day either?

I do not believe that advocating for your wellbeing is selfish. I think it is responsible. I think asking for support is important, not weakness. There is a difference between doing something hard because it aligns with your values, and doing something hard because you think you are not allowed to say it is hurting you. I will always do my best to help you find what works for you. I will be cheering you on as you navigate your own path, always without judgment.

Josie