Trusting Our Maternal Instincts

Back in 2004, when I was pregnant with my first child, I anxiously awaited my first anatomical sonogram, which took place when I was 20 weeks pregnant. And by anxiously, I don’t mean excitedly. I was really nervous. I just felt like something wasn’t right. My worst fears were confirmed when the doctor noted a clear fluid cyst growing in the baby’s abdomen, and immediately (and emphatically) advised us to legally terminate the pregnancy while we still could, stating that he had never seen anything like this before. The doctor expressed his fears that the baby would be severely disabled or die if he survived the pregnancy.

We did not want to terminate the pregnancy or just “start over” as the doctor recommended, and we searched frantically for a doctor who could help us unravel the medical mystery we were suddenly faced with. As two new parents, we were confused, scared, and upset beyond words.

And yet, just as sure as I was that something was wrong, I had this gnawing feeling, one that I could not shake or articulate, that everything would turn out all right, one way or another. Maybe it was naïve hope, a new mother’s fleeting wish for her unborn child; in retrospect, those palpable deep feelings, I later learned, were the product of my first maternal instincts. Those same instincts later led me to take my three year old to an ophthalmologist (yes, he needed glasses), and my daughter to an orthopedist before she was even two years old (turns out she needed physical therapy).

We’ve all had similar experiences when we just know something about our children – good or bad – and we use those instincts to make decisions for our kids. We know whether an illness or a developmental delay is indicative of something more serious, even before the doctors confirm it. We suspect when our kids are experimenting with drugs or have an eating disorder. We know when they sneak candy, eat the dog’s food, or hide their siblings’ toys under the couch cushions. We know when they lie or cheat and when they are telling the truth. We just know.

Others have referred to these maternal instincts as a “sixth sense” or a “third eye.” Call it what you will, but it all boils down to the same thing: trust.

At some point, when we least expect it, before we are even able to recognize it or give it a name, we begin to listen to our inner voice as mothers, and we learn to trust ourselves. We hear our thoughts as they apply to another person – not just ourselves – and we take comfort in knowing.

From the moment we see that little blue line on the pregnancy test, our friends, family, the media, and the world for that matter, throw all kinds of advice (accompanied by tons of baby products) in our path. Use this bottle. Exclusively breast feed. This stroller is the best. That crib is too easy to climb out of. Don’t give solid food before four months. If you don’t co-sleep your child will feel abandoned. And on and on it goes until we are so confused we end up purchasing a small library of baby books and guides just to unravel it all.

And it doesn’t get any easier as the children grow. There are schools and camps to choose, sports and hobbies to join, and all kinds of enrichment activities to participate in. There is so much chatter, so much noise, that it seems impossible at times just to be still and listen to our inner voices about what is best for our child.

But that instinct – that maternal chord that tethers us to our children in a bond that no one else can know or understand – is what truly guides us as mothers. Sometimes, we need to drown out the endless chatter, the static that fills our radios, TVs, telephones, and computer screens, and just listen to that instinct that can guide us as we make so many important decisions on behalf of those precious souls helplessly relying on us.

Admittedly, there are wise people around us who are central to our roles as moms – the fathers, grandparents, doctors, nurses, therapists, other mothers, clergy, teachers – that provide vital information as we make choices for our children. But ultimately, we have to follow our instincts as mothers. We have to trust ourselves in a way we never thought possible. In the end, we have to believe in our ability to shape and support another person. It is a heady responsibility. So, yes, sometimes we make mistakes. And, sometimes, even the right choices make us cry and worry.

Because trusting ourselves as mothers means owning the consequences of our decisions. When my husband and I decided, after intense consultations with various maternal fetal medicine specialists, to continue our pregnancy, I knew that we might have a special needs child. I mentally prepared myself for that as best I could, and I became willing to accept this fragile soul that would possibly need me more and longer than I thought possible. For reasons we still do not fully understand, my son was born without any complications, and the cyst that was once larger than his head – filling his abdomen and potentially affecting the growth of his kidneys – suddenly disappeared in the last few weeks of my pregnancy.

I am not naïve enough to think that every scary pregnancy story turns out this way, but during those interminable weeks of uncertainty, my inner voice told me to carry on, to accept whatever outcome was awaiting us, buoying me during the dark days of fear, sadness, and confusion.

I learned from that experience to listen to my instincts, to truly trust myself, because no matter what the outcome, I could take solace in the fact that, as a mother, I did what I thought was best. I made my decision from a starting point of trust and love, which made the consequences, even those unknown, a bit easier to accept.

As moms, we parent children who have a wide variety of mental, physical, and emotional, abilities, different personalities, and unique characteristics. No two children or moms are alike. So in the end, as difficult as it might be, we moms simply have to listen to our inner voices as we nurture our distinct children in to adulthood. We are their lifeline long after the umbilical cord is cut or the adoption papers are signed. Our little ones unconditionally trust us; and so we have to learn to trust ourselves.

* This article originally appeared on The Mommy Vortex.