Why is it so hard to trust a gut feeling? Maybe you’re there, too? You know something is right or wrong or should be done a certain way, but you push that aside. Perhaps it defies logic? Perhaps you’re afraid you’d look strange or be embarrassed if you trusted this emotion that is nearly impossible to define.
After all, it’s just a feeling, right? Why would I listen to a feeling?
The moment I became a mother the gut feeling went into overdrive. If you’re a parent, you know what I’m talking about. There is something about a mother’s intuition that can only be explained if you’re a mom, too.
It’s there; every day this powerful sense overtakes a piece of my soul. It sounds dramatic and admittedly, I can be a bit drama filled and tend to worry more than I should, but what if I’m right? What if my intuition or that gut feeling or this powerful emotion that the world is trying to tell me is true?
That’s what scares me.
I’ve worried about something for well over a year. Our youngest daughter, Grace has troubles speaking clearly. I didn’t mention it to many people, just my husband and close family members. Her teachers didn’t seem concerned and any time I let my intuition be known it was put aside as an overzealous worry, both from others and my own mind.
“She’s fine. She’s only 4 years old. Sometimes it’s hard to hear a 4-year-old.”
“Yes, her younger sister, Ella spoke clearly at that age, but Ella has always been advanced. That kid was speaking at age 2.”
“She’ll grow out of it. It will get better.”
“She’s smart. She knows her letters and can write her name. Nothing is wrong.”
And when the doctor asked me if I had any concerns during her 3 and 4 year old checkup appointments, I said no, even though my intuition was yelling at me.
Yes, I’m concerned. Yes, I want to know why I can’t understand what my daughter is telling me. And now I’m upset that I didn’t listen to my gut.
I brought Grace in to see the doctor last week. She’s been struggling with a cold and fluid in her ears since last fall. She’s been on antibiotics for weeks and finally her doctor thinks she should see a specialist. Why? Because I spoke up.
“Something isn’t right,” I said. “I’m not sure she can hear very well.”
Tests confirmed; she has troubles hearing.
It could be because of the fluid in her ears. Or it could be genetic. There’s a long family history on her dad’s side with hearing problems. I’ve known about it since I married my husband. It was the first thing we asked after each of our girls was born.
“Can they hear, OK?”
Both times it was yes.
But the doctors don’t know my children. The teachers don’t know my children. Not even my close family members truly know my kids. I am the mother. I’m the one with the intuition. Why do I have troubles listening?
“Could this be why I can’t understand what she’s trying to tell me?” I asked her doctor last week. “If she can’t hear, she can’t speak as well, correct?”
The answer was yes. But I didn’t need a doctor to confirm my suspicion. My gut has been trying to tell me the very same thing for well over a year.
She’ll see a specialist in March. Maybe it’s a simple fix or maybe she’ll have a lifetime of hearing problems, I can’t be sure. But I do know this.
Next time, I’ll listen to my intuition.