You see me in the preschool pickup line, coffee in one hand, baby carrier on my chest, my 5-year-old bouncing beside me, and my 3-year-old daughter half-sprinting toward the fence again. What you don’t see is the silent calculation I’m doing every second. Is the baby due for a nap? Did my daughter take her vitamins today? Did I pack her noise-canceling headphones just in case? What sensory triggers are we walking into at this event? Will my oldest melt down if we don’t follow the exact routine? This, right here, is the invisible load of motherhood—the constant, never-ending, mental, emotional, and sensory juggling act that no one else sees but that never, ever turns off.
The Myth of the “Supermom”
People love to say, “I don’t know how you do it all!”
And I smile. Because how do you even begin to explain that you’re not “doing it all”—you’re simply surviving in a system that assumes you’ll be the default, the planner, the regulator, the soft place to land, the boundary-setter, the advocate, the calm in everyone else’s storm?
Spoiler: I am not always calm. But I am always carrying.
The invisible load of motherhood hits especially hard when you’re raising neurodivergent kids while managing your own needs.
What the Invisible Load Looks Like (for Me)
It looks like:
- Waking up before the sun because it’s the only quiet time I’ll get today
- Replaying last night’s bedtime meltdown to figure out what went wrong
- Researching sensory-friendly mealtime tools between feedings
- Keeping track of three humans’ emotional regulation—and forgetting my own
- Coordinating meetings, appointments, pediatrician follow-ups, and still managing to make dinner (or at least snacks… lots of snacks)
Oh—and while all this is going on? I’m also remembering to text back the friend who thinks I’m flaky, clean the breakfats bar, check for potty accidents, refill the diaper caddy, and hide in the bathroom for two minutes of “alone time” (where someone is probably still calling my name through the door).
It’s not that I mind the tasks themselves. It’s that there is no pause—no off switch, no backup team.
Just me. And the invisible to-do list I carry everywhere, always.
When You’re ADHD, Too
Now add in the fact that I’m ADHD myself.
My brain needs structure. I get overstimulated easily. I struggle with executive functioning, and I have to work ten times harder to look like I’ve got it together.
So when the world expects me to function as a Pinterest mom and emotional manager, it’s not just exhausting—it’s overwhelming.
I’m not just helping my daughter manage her ADHD; I’m managing my own.
I’m not just guiding my daughter through a social-emotional storm; I’m white-knuckling through mine.
I’m not just teaching coping skills; I’m actively practicing them in real-time, often on zero sleep and with a crying baby in one arm.
What I Wish People Knew
If you see me and think I’m “strong,” it’s not because I’ve got it all figured out.
It’s because I’ve had to be.
Because if I fall apart, who holds it all together?
But here’s what I wish more people understood about the invisible load of motherhood, especially when you’re raising neurodivergent kids:
- I’m not overthinking. I’m planning for meltdowns before they happen.
- I’m not being rigid. I’m preserving routines that help my child feel safe.
- I’m not dramatic. I’m tired. Deeply, systemically tired.
- I don’t want advice. I want acknowledgment.
The Layers You Don’t See
The invisible load isn’t just about remembering appointments and snacks.
It’s emotional. It’s sensory. It’s mental gymnastics and empathetic overload. It’s:
- Calming your child while suppressing your own meltdown
- Advocating at school while fighting off anxiety
- Keeping a smile when the cashier gives you that look because your daughter is stimming loudly
- Replaying every interaction to make sure you weren’t too much—or not enough
It’s preparing for battles before they come and grieving the breaks you never get.
“Parenting a Child with ADHD While Managing Your Own”
What Helps (Even Just a Little)
There’s no magic fix for the invisible load. But there are a few things that help lighten the mental weight:
1. Outsource Where You Can
I used to think asking for help was weak. Now I realize it’s survival. Whether it’s grocery delivery, using Amazon as a personal assistant, or using a planner app that works with my brain, every little bit counts.
2. Sensory Reset Tools
Our house runs smoother when everyone—including me—has what they need to regulate.
Some lifesavers:
- Noise-canceling headphones
- Fidget tools
- Weighted blanket (for me and my daughter)
- Calming essential oils
- A visual schedule board that reduces 100 questions a day
Managing the invisible load of motherhood is easier when we recognize and support our own sensory needs too.
3. Lowering the Bar
No, I didn’t make bento box lunches.
Yes, my 3-year-old wore her pajamas to Target.
We’re fed. We’re safe. We’re loved. That is enough.
You’re Not Alone
If you’re reading this and nodding, feeling seen, feeling tired—I’m with you.
You’re not failing because you’re overwhelmed.
You’re not lazy because the dishes are still in the sink.
You’re not dramatic because your brain never stops.
You’re carrying something most people can’t see. And you’re doing it with love.
The invisible load of motherhood isn’t something we should have to carry alone—but so many of us do, in silence.
Final Thoughts: You’re Doing Enough
On the days where it feels like nobody gets it, where the noise in your head won’t stop and the chaos in your house matches it…
I hope you remember this: You are not alone.
You are not weak.
You are not invisible.
You’re just carrying something that most people never have to hold.
And you’re doing it with grace, even when it doesn’t feel like it.
The invisible load of motherhood deserves recognition, not just resilience.
Affiliate Disclosure
This post may contain affiliate links. If you click and make a purchase, I may earn a small commission at no extra cost to you. I only recommend things I’ve used and loved. Your support helps me keep this blog running—and my kids supplied with snacks and sensory tools.
