mother´s instinct

I came back from my group therapy about an hour ago. We have been talking about mother´s intuition, or mother´s instinct (is it the same, actually?). I was insisting that there is no such thing. I was very categorical about it. At the end of the session and later at home I noticed even (long live dance therapy training) some aggression stored in my body as a result of the discussion.

What is it that is threatening me so in the idea of a mother´s instinct? (intuition)
The argument supporting that it exists sounds like this: "Sometimes I just know what is going on with my child. I feel it in my body (more specifically, my belly, or guts)."

Do I believe in body´s wisdom? I do. (see the above acknowledging of aggression) Than why can not the body be wise in relation to a child?

This is coming up as I go: Well, it is one thing to notice something in your body that makes you aware about how you feel, and something else to notice something in your body that makes you aware of how someone else is feeling.

The second is called empathy. Do I believe in empathy? I do.

What don´t I like about mother´s intuition then?

It is the magical part of it. Like in: I do not know how I know, I just KNOW (how my baby/child feels, etc). So it is sort of happening like magic and there is nothing extra left to explain it.

Another thing I do not like about it is the infallibility of it. Somehow it is implied that one is born with it, stays there, and never fails, like a sixth sense.

What I believe is that mother´s instinct is actually a skill that develops in time. It is a hard learned skill. It takes time to build. It asks for a lot of trail and error processes, which may not even be perceived as such. It implies a lot of observation, looking at the child, being with the child. It comes out of the relationship that the mother builds with the child (and that also does not come magically and instantly).

This mother´s knowledge or skill which I refuse to call intuition or instinct does make a mother, be a mother. I remember, about one year before I had David, I saw my cousin with her boy of about four years (?). We belong to the same generation, me and her, we grew up together. She looked at her boy and said: you need to go to the toilet, don´t you. Denial. Some more pressing. The resistance of the boy gradually melted and he admitted grumpily and proceeded in the direction of the toilet. My cousin just shrugged her shoulders. I had instant admiration for her. That´s a mother, I thought. Irina is a mother.

I knew her before, and she did not have a clue about THAT, just like me. She could not perform that before (whatever THAT was). Now she was still herself, of course, but also something else that was not there before. She became a mother.