Anxiety vs. Intuition: My Son's Health Journey

Aug 29

My youngest son, Ian, was born in May of 2020.

He came onto the scene in true Ian fashion--unexpectedly, fiercely, and eager to take the world by storm.

He was small and mighty (a classic Taurus). Jason and I cried tears of joy.

Our family was complete.

Twelve hours later, Ian aspirated on milk. We watched him struggle to breathe as a nurse forced formula out of his airway by pounding on his back.

Immediately, I was triggered. Past life memories of having a son and losing him in infancy flooded my brain.

No. Not again.

From then on, I was consumed with postpartum anxiety.

How was I going to sleep, when I was too busy making sure he was breathing?

Everything came to a halt.

The coaching business I had started 2 weeks prior,
Editing a web series I'd created during the pandemic
The plan to rest and take things easy,
NOT breastfeeding to support my mental health.

The anticipatory fear was overwhelming.

It's 4 weeks later, and Ian is throwing up everything he eats.

I tell myself, "That's normal. Babies throw up. As long as he's still making wet diapers, he's fine."

I check his diaper. Nothing.

Hours go by. He's still throwing up, and his diaper is still dry.

By nightfall, Ian is admitted to Children's Hospital of Atlanta.

Because it was June 2020, only one parent could be with him at a time. It was heart-wrenching.

Wires were in his arm, up his nose, and wrapped around his tiny foot.

They had him on fluids to combat the stomach bug, he was producing wet diapers, but all I could do was cry. Sob, really.

Three days and several tear-soaked masks later, we finally brought him home.

I held onto him even more tightly. I was not going to lose this one. Not in this lifetime. Not again.

Cut to his 4-month check-up. He’s healthy, strong, and has a smile that lights up the room. The doctor examines his body.

Suddenly, she stops and excuses herself.

Another doctor enters. They look at him together, poking and prodding my infant as they murmur.

“Not to scare you, but..he probably needs surgery.”

My heart sank. Not. Again.

The whole ride home I'm frozen.

My mind races. "Is this my fault? How can I fix this? My baby can't have surgery. I can't do this."

When I get home, I just want to cry in my bed and plead with the Universe to let him be okay.

As I walk towards the stairs, my oldest son grabs me.

"Can we listen to the piano song?" He means "Clocks" by Coldplay. I look into his little 2-year old eyes.

I stop. I breathe. I listen to my intuition.

"Yes," I say. We dance to "Clocks" on repeat, smiling. I let the tears flow.

We get a second opinion and find out that Ian's case doesn't require medical intervention.

Two years later. Another routine check-up.

Jason, my husband, calls me. “Don't freak out...He needs to see a pediatric cardiologist.”

My heart dropped.

Easily, I could’ve slipped back into a hole of anxiety, but I knew what I needed to do.

The same thing I teach my clients to do when the world feels overwhelming and decision-making feels impossible.

I stopped. I breathed deeply. I tuned into my intuition.

I KNEW without a shadow of a doubt that he was fine.

The specialist confirmed it weeks later. It's what they call an "Innocent Heart Murmur."

This is why I teach my clients how to KNOW how anxiety presents in your body vs your intuition.

When we understand how something feels in our body, we can label it.

Once we label it, we can CHOOSE how we want to address it.

We can trust that we have the tools and capability to experience the emotion without getting lost in it.

That's why I'm doing a series this week on Anxiety vs. Intuition on IG. You can check out the first part HERE.

Once you know the difference,