Before the Diagnosis: What I Saw in My Son
The Early Signs
From the moment my oldest son was born, I felt like his brain worked differently. As a new mom, I tried not to compare too much, but my gut told me there was something unique about the way he processed the world.
He hit every milestone early. Sitting at 4 months, crawling by 5 or 6 months, standing soon after, and walking at just 8 months old. No one ever believes me when I say he was walking that early, but I have endless videos to prove it. Even when I nursed him — which was short-lived — he refused to be snuggled against my chest. He preferred to sit upright in the football hold, already needing to take in the world from a different angle.
Sleep was another story entirely. Most babies need rocking or bouncing, but with him it was on another level. The second the movement stopped, his eyes would fly open. We spent countless nights driving loops on the freeway, praying he’d stay asleep once we carried him inside. My parents would push him around the dining table in his stroller long after he had dozed off, just to keep that rhythmic motion going. He had severe colic for the entire first year — every evening from about 7pm to 2am he was inconsolable. My husband would often fall asleep in the rocking chair with him in his arms, sometimes wearing a neck brace just to save himself from the pain of hours of rocking. It was utterly exhausting.
And the sleeplessness didn’t stop after infancy. He didn’t truly sleep through the night until age 3, and even now, as an almost-13-year-old, he’s a restless sleeper. He sleep talks, sometimes even sleepwalks (something that runs in our family), and still takes hours to finally wind down at night. However, it has gotten so much better over the years. We’ve found ways to help relax his mind — swimming outside after school or before bed, watching a calm show to wind down, reading, or even drawing. We’ve also added nighttime vitamins with magnesium into his routine, which made a noticeable difference. I’ll tag the vitamins we’ve tried and share which ones worked best for us at the end of this blog.
During the day, though, he was an angel baby. Happy, curious, brilliant. He spoke early, knew his ABCs and numbers by 18 months, and was fully potty trained by then too. People used to tell me, “Slow down, let him be a baby.” But the truth was, I wasn’t rushing him — I was just trying to keep up. He was always ahead, always moving, always hungry for the next thing.
Energy and focus were his trademarks. He had boundless energy, always climbing, touching, and exploring. But when something captured his interest, he could tune out the entire world. That hyperfocus amazed me — it was the complete opposite of the “short attention span” stereotype I had heard about ADHD.
Looking back, I can see how all these little pieces fit together. At the time, I didn’t have the language for it. I just thought, “Wow, my child’s brain never stops.” (just like mine however I don't necessarily remember being this hyper as a child myself) But deep down, my intuition kept nudging me: this wasn’t just a “busy toddler phase.” It was something more.
And as much as those early years stretched me thin — especially while I was battling postpartum anxiety — I’m forever grateful for my husband, who carried us through so many of those sleepless nights. I don’t know how I would have managed without him.
My Postpartum Anxiety & Motherhood Triggers
(I’ll share more about my anxiety journey in a future blog, but I want to touch on it here.)
I’ve struggled with anxiety my entire life. What I didn’t know back then was how many symptoms of anxiety overlap with ADHD. My trauma started long before I became a mom — honestly, before I was even born, in utero, because of my birth parents’ lifestyle choices. But after having my son, my anxiety skyrocketed.
There were moments I felt like the absolute worst mother. I would cry and cry, asking my husband, “Why does his crying make me so mad? Why does it upset me so much?” I didn’t realize how big of a trigger it was, or why it affected me so deeply. To this day, I’m not completely sure why — but I do know this: my triggers are not his responsibility. They are not his problem to carry.
That took me a long time to learn.
I wish I had healed sooner. I wish I had been more patient during those baby and toddler years. If I could go back, the one thing I would change is making sure I was truly healed and ready before becoming a parent. But then again, are any of us ever really ready? No matter your age or situation, parenting will always test and stretch you.
Here’s what I remind my friends when they vent to me about feeling like “bad moms”:
Bad moms don’t care if they’re bad moms.
They don’t worry about whether they’re hurting their children.
They don’t communicate after fights, or circle back to apologize.
They don’t care about repairing the relationship.
We question ourselves, we feel guilt, we want to do better. And that very concern is proof that we’re not bad moms at all.
Of course, I’ve had moments where I felt like I failed my son, where I wished I had handled things differently. But as I’ve grown, healed, and become more aware — both of myself and of him — we’ve found the most powerful tool: communication. Now I can express my feelings to him, apologize when I need to, and invite him to do the same. Those conversations are healing for both of us. And honestly, I think that’s one of the best gifts we can give our kids as parents.
I LOVE my son, and I wouldn't change any part of him. I just wanted to know how I could parent better and if we're being 100% honest, I still feel that way. I am always trying to figure out how I can be a better parent, because every year there is something new and every year comes with different new characteristics and challenges
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I love my son deeply, and I wouldn’t change a single thing about who he is.
What I’ve always wanted is to understand how I can parent him better. And if I’m being completely honest, I still feel that way today. Parenting is a constant learning curve — every year brings new stages, new characteristics, and new challenges.
Being his mom also meant being a first-time parent. He and his younger brother actually had very different parenting experiences. With my oldest, I was younger and still figuring it all out, often learning as I went. By the time I had my second, I had more information, more awareness, and more tools to approach things differently. My oldest essentially grew up alongside me as I was learning how to be a mother.
And really, parenting kids is always going to look different, even within the same household. Each child is unique, with their own personality, and each one will walk through life in their own way. They experience and perceive the world differently — and as parents, our job is to meet them where they are.
For me, that became crystal clear when my son started school. The same differences I had noticed since infancy now stood out in an environment with rules, structure, and expectations. It was there that we began the evaluation process — and at just five years old, he was officially diagnosed with ADHD. That diagnosis didn’t just change his story — it changed mine, too. (And that’s exactly where I’ll pick up in my next post.)
