There’s No Such Thing As A Mother’s Intuition

I’ve never been very good with children. If I’m being totally honest, I’d say there was a time when they actually used to terrify me. It wasn’t that I didn’t like them so much as I just didn’t know what to do with them. Those tiny, sticky hands; that weirdly freakish self-detonating soft spot on the back of a newborn baby’s head; the constant, seemingly unending streams of poop, pee, tears, and weird words I didn’t understand””it’s fair to say that growing up I wanted no part in any of it.

Before my son was born in 2011, I stayed pretty much as far away from kids as possible as a general rule. Their smallness and neediness made me uncomfortable. I didn’t know how to talk to them or what to say. Babies seemed breakable. I always felt like I was approaching kids at the wrong level””oblivious to how ”age appropriate interaction” would differ between, say, a three-year-old or a six-year-old. Being a parent seemed like competing in a never-ending obstacle course””one wrong move, one small misstep, and your previously innocent child would either die (worst case scenario) or (best case scenario) become scarred and disturbed, stuck on a therapist’s couch cursing your name for the rest of their life. No thanks!

I wish I could say that all of this changed when my son was born””but alas, that’s not the case.

I did do my best to prepare for becoming a parent. It didn’t take a tremendous amount of brain power to realize that I had a gigantic amount of work to do if I was going to begin to figure out this whole ”keeping your child alive” thing. Beneath my panic, there was excitement brewing, and I had actively decided from day one that if I was going to go through with having a child, then that child deserved to have me be the best parent possible. Full stop.

I began to spend hours online each day reading baby books and parenting blogs, researching any number of things including but not limited to: formula vs. breast feeding, co-sleeping, the pros and cons of pacifiers, the best type of diapers, birthing methods, what-type-of-highchairs-will-ensure-your-child-goes-to-Princeton, and what-type-of-strollers-will-undoubtedly-kill-him-so-don’t-even-think-about-buying-it-you-irresponsible-monster. The list goes on. Indefinitely. Despite feeling almost immediately overwhelmed by the endless streams of conflicting information””co-sleep or your child will never truly know what love is! Don’t co-sleep or you’ll murder your baby while it sleeps! Attachment parent or your child will probably become a sociopath! Don’t attachment parent or your child will grow to be a co-dependent dork!””I worked diligently at sifting my way slowly through the madness until I felt I had a moderately comprehensive grasp on the ”basics” of this parenting thing.

It’s because of this hard work and dedication, both before my son was born as well as since, that I was able to become the moderately competent parent I am today (okay, I’m being modest, I actually kick a lot of ass””most of the time). This is why it bothered me when my son was born and family, friends, and strangers alike started to say things like, ”Oh, look at you, you’re such a natural! It just makes sense that you do more for the child now than the father. Being a mother means that these things just come easier for you.” Or, ”You think you have it hard? Imagine how lost the dad’s feeling right now!” These statements bothered me not only because they were false, but because they also served to undermine the hard work I had put into becoming a decent parent as well as to excuse his father from becoming involved on a deeper level based on a mistaken and outdated cultural stereotype. It seemed, strangely, that the moment I conceived a child people assumed I’d suddenly used my magical vagina powers to intuit all the great mysteries of the universe related to child rearing. Of course I was a good parent! I was a mother, after all.

This is obviously not to discount the fact that many women feel like they are ”naturally” predisposed to child rearing. That is certainly a thing””for some women, but not for all. This is also not to discount the fact that ”mother’s intuition” is a very real and valuable thing. I love my son, and I feel connected to him in unfathomable ways. However, from my experience it seems that ”mother’s intuition” is often conflated with ”mothers just know how to do everything””or they should.” This becomes shaming and stressful for all women with kids (because let’s face it, no one knows the ”right” thing to do when it comes to parenting 100% of the time). It’s also misleading””loving your child, feeling connected to them, and wanting what’s best for them is one thing. Knowing how to potty train, change a diaper, or deal with tantrums is something else entirely.

In my case, there were a whole host of things that ”mother’s intuition” didn’t prepare me for or help me to overcome. My son didn’t want to latch when I tried to breastfeed him. The pee-pee teepee protected neither him nor myself from his persistent streams of infant urine that reached dazzling heights as they sprayed impressively across our living room. The first time we brought him out to meet family I failed to realize that we would need roughly 75 spare diapers in tow. He destroyed books, broke through childproof locks, and covered 99.9% of my belongings with slobber””all before learning how to walk. And yet throughout all of these mistakes, not once did my maternal Spidey-senses start a-tingling before that poop or saliva started flying.

The faulty assumption that moms are the default parent because we’re just ”naturally” better at it is not new. To the contrary, it plays right into our age-old and highly problematic cultural norms regarding parenting. Having a kid, especially the first one, is pretty terrifying for both sexes, and I can understand how being a masculine-identified person in a heteronormative relationship and feeling both physically and emotionally detached from the child””especially a breast-feeding child””in a socially sanctioned way could make one feel like it was better to just not intervene. In fact, some mothers might prefer that.

However, I also believe that a better parenting model is for both parents to work together towards figuring out how to effectively parent as a team via a social distribution of tasks””instead of just assuming that mom will do all the work because . . . she’s a mom. This would alleviate a good deal of stress from the already burdened mother, as well as more effectively empower both parents and strengthen the family unit overall. (And recent research shows that this sort of model works, too!)

I’m glad that, despite being terrified, overwhelmed, and most definitely out of my wheelhouse, I fought to overcome these feelings early on and educate myself. It was important for me to do this not because I’m a mother, but because I’m a parent. Because I was only one part of a larger parenting unit that came together, conceived, and brought a child into the world. Just like women””who are not a homogenous group, and as such differ vastly in their skill or interest levels when it comes to parenting, or anything else for that matter””some men are naturally pre-disposed caretakers (my current partner, for example), while some are not. So for those who aren’t, I’ve learned that it’s just as important for men to ”lean-in” to parenting as it is for women to ”lean-in” at the workplace. As they say, it takes a village to raise a child, and mothers and fathers will both be more effective parents””in turn, creating happier, healthier, and more-well balanced children””if both are a productive part of the child’s life wherever possible.

Because, newsflash everyone! Sometimes moms can be clueless, too. And that’s okay. It’s natural.

(photo: ra2studio/ Shutterstock)