The Mother's Sixth Sense

This is a guest post from the remarkable Kate who writes at My Dear Angel.

It is quite extraordinary.

I’d lay there in the dark. Waiting. Waiting until it was time.

There. A nudge. A kick. A push.

Is he just kicking me? Or is he just snuggling me? I'm not sure.

I’d wait a moment more.

There. Definitely a nudge. A poke too. Getting impatient, aren’t we?

And off I’d sleepily feel my way down the hall. Again.

Extraordinary, I’d think. Again, I knew. I just knew.

Is it like that for all mothers? Do they know?

For me, it seemed, I always knew when my baby was crying out for me. I always would wake a few moments before that nudge. Sometimes, I swear, I would even hear a cry.

Is it like that for all mothers? Those that can hear? Do they know?

I imagine it wouldn’t feel quite remarkable, if they did. They’d probably think they were roused from their sleep slowly, at the first sound of a cry. That it was their sense of hearing that alerted them to a baby in need.

But I don’t think it is that, their sense of hearing.

What is remarkable for me is, I cannot hear.

That cry I thought I could hear, I couldn’t possibly hear.

How is that?

At night, I would not wear my hearing aides. Yet still, most nights, for most feeds, I would find myself lying awake, just moments before the nudge. The nudge from my husband, letting me know it was time.

Is there some kind of telepathy between a mother and a baby? I really think so.

Quite extraordinary, isn’t it.

Have you had similar experiences?