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No one wanted a baby more than I did. I’d married at 25 and was eager to start a family. Seven years later, it finally happened. We adopted two beautiful girls, one arriving in 1985 and the other in 1988. I was in heaven. Or so I thought.
In those days, I had no idea that my challenges -- distractibility, sensory overload, procrastination -- had a name. I didn’t know that attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADD/ADHD) existed. I’d gotten through life pretty well, despite my symptoms.
Until the babies came. I became overwhelmed by the nonstop crying, lack of sleep, and days of boredom and/or chaos. I thought, at times, that I was losing my sanity. How could someone who wanted children so badly, someone with two college degrees (one in mental health, no less), be torn apart by the stress and responsibility of it all? Answer: I had ADD/ADHD.
This article comes from the Winter 2010 issue of ADDitude. To read this issue of ADDitude in full, buy the back issue.
