When I moved to California 5 years ago, I did so primarily because my intuition told me to. I knew absolutely no one in Sonoma County, I didn’t have a job or a place to stay, and I barely had any money. And yet, because of a feeling in my gut, I hopped in the car and took a chance. Within three weeks of being here, a newly acquired friend asked me to go to a party with him. Even though I didn’t feel like going, I decided to join him because something was pulling me there. The second we opened the door, I spotted Tim. 2 years later, he became my husband. My intuition was dead-on.
In therapy two nights ago, we discovered that one of the problems for me with my losses is that my intuition has been silenced. When I think about my next pregnancy, my head is telling me it’s not going to work-out and that I have to start accepting the fact that I may not be a mother because my head is trying to protect my heart. But when I try to listen to my intuition, I can’t hear a thing. It’s telling me nothing. Which means one of two things: 1) my intuition has been thwarted from all of the grief and pain and it just doesn’t have an answer for me, or 2) I’m too scared to listen.
We sat with the second option for a few moments. As we sat in silence while I tried to listen, I still heard nothing. But while my intuition was mute, my fear was screaming. It appears I’m scared to death of finding out what it’s trying to tell me. Which can only mean one thing: that it’s going to tell me what I don’t want to hear. I can try to tell myself that my fear and my heart are confusing my intuition, but it has never failed me before.
Or has it?
Didn’t I believe whole-heartedly that my second pregnancy (and first planned) was it? Isn’t that how it works? Except I think in that case it was merely naivety. Women who get pregnant stay pregnant, right? No one miscarries! My intuition didn’t know any better.
This brings me to a very good point that both my therapist and my husband brought to my attention: biology will always have the ability to overrule my gut. Perhaps biology even trumps it all – no matter what I feel, it will always have the last say. The bastard.
Perhaps this is something I can believe in while my intuition remains silenced. That even though I can’t (or won’t) hear what it’s trying to tell me, that maybe this one I should just leave up to biology. It’s just so difficult to turn my back on the compass that I’ve relied on my entire life, the one that brought me three thousand miles to my husband. Navigating this newly-found landscape sometimes feels impossible without it.