Why your parental intuition matters more than you think
You know that feeling when something's off with your kid, and the doctor tells you to "wait and see"?
That pit in your stomach that won't go away, even when the expert assures you everything's fine?
"Wait and see" is sometimes the right call. But sometimes it's not. And learning to tell the difference could change everything.
Your intuition is data (even if doctors don't treat it that way)
When medical professionals tell you to "wait and see" but your gut is screaming that something is wrong, you're stuck in an impossible position.
On one hand, they have years of medical training. On the other hand, you live with your kid 24/7. You know what's normal and what's not.
Both things can be true at once.
The doctor's assessment might be accurate based on what they can see in a 10-minute appointment. And your instinct that something's wrong might also be accurate based on patterns you're seeing over weeks or months.
The problem isn't that one of you is right and the other is wrong. The problem is that the medical system is set up to be reactive, not proactive. Doctors are trained to triage based on immediate life-or-death concerns. If it's not urgent right now, it goes to the bottom of the list.
But "not urgent" doesn't mean "not important." And "wait and see" doesn't mean "do nothing."
How to advocate when you disagree with "wait and see"
So what do you actually do when a doctor tells you to wait, but your gut says you can't?
Document everything. Keep a running log of symptoms, behaviors, patterns you're noticing. "He seems uncomfortable sometimes" is vague. "He cries for 20+ minutes every time we change his diaper, specifically when we move his left leg" is data.
Ask specific questions. Don't just accept "it's probably fine." Ask: "What are we ruling out? What would need to change for you to be concerned? What's the timeline for reassessment if things don't improve?"
Request imaging or tests anyway. You can ask for an X-ray, an MRI, bloodwork—even if the doctor doesn't think it's necessary. Sometimes they'll say yes just to give you peace of mind. Sometimes they'll say no, but at least you've created a paper trail showing you asked.
Call every single day if you need to. One mom called the MRI scheduling department daily for three weeks until they got her son in. She became the squeaky wheel in the system and instead of waiting three years, she only had to wait three weeks.
Find someone on your team who will advocate for you. This might be a family doctor, a pediatrician, a nurse practitioner—someone who knows your situation and is willing to make referrals outside the traditional hierarchy.
How to get a second opinion without burning bridges
Getting a second opinion feels uncomfortable. It feels like you're questioning someone's expertise or being "difficult."
But medical professionals consult with each other all the time. It's called collaboration. You're just expanding the circle.
You don't need permission. You can request a referral to another specialist. If your current doctor won't do it, ask your GP or family doctor to make the referral instead.
Be strategic about who you see. Don't just go to another general specialist in the same health system. Find someone who specializes in the specific thing you're concerned about. If you're dealing with something rare or complex, you might need to go outside your province or even your country.
Track down contact info directly. Some specialists have publicly available email addresses or clinic contact forms. One mom sent photos of her son's condition directly to a specialist's email. He responded within hours: "Get here tomorrow."
Use your network. Post in parent groups. Ask friends if they know anyone in the medical field. Sometimes the right referral comes through a random LinkedIn connection or a friend of a friend.
If a doctor gets defensive about you seeking a second opinion, that's a red flag. The best doctors are humble enough to say "this might be outside my scope" and help you find someone who has more experience with your specific situation.
The questions to ask before accepting "wait and see"
Not every "wait and see" is wrong. Sometimes it really is the right call. But before you accept it, ask these questions:
What are the risks of waiting? If things don't improve, what's the worst-case scenario? Is there a window where early intervention would make a difference?
What should I be watching for? Get specific criteria. "If X happens, call us immediately. If Y continues for more than Z weeks, come back in."
What's the timeline for reassessment? "Wait and see" should always come with a follow-up plan. If it doesn't, create one. "So I should book a follow-up in 4 weeks? 6 weeks?"
Is there anything I can do in the meantime? Sometimes there are low-risk interventions you can try while you wait. Physical therapy. Diet changes. Sleep adjustments. Even if they don't solve the problem, they give you data.
When to trust your gut over the expert
This is the hardest part. Because you don't want to be the paranoid parent who wastes everyone's time. But you also don't want to ignore a legitimate problem.
If the worry is interfering with your ability to function, and not just “I'm a little concerned" worry but "I can't sleep at night because I'm so worried something's wrong" worry, then it’s probably your nervous system trying to tell you something.
If you can't let it go, don't try to logic yourself out of it. Get the second opinion. Get the test. Get the answer.
Because when you don't: you’ll spend months or even years in this limbo of not knowing. And if it turns out something WAS wrong, you'll never forgive yourself for not pushing harder.
Rest isn't optional when you're fighting the system
Advocating for your kid is exhausting. Navigating medical appointments, insurance, specialists, second opinions, fighting for referrals—it's a full-time job on top of your actual full-time job.
And if you're also working in a field adjacent to what you're living through, the emotional toll is crushing.
So let me hold your hand while I tell you that you don't have to be productive every minute. You don't have to optimize your kid's therapy schedule. You don't have to say yes to every appointment.
Sometimes the most important thing you can do is cancel everything and go to the beach.
Your body might be screaming for a break—through panic attacks, through exhaustion, through illness— so listen to it. It’s the best you can do for your health and your child’s health.
But, what happens after you get answers
Let's say you push for the second opinion. You get the imaging. You find the specialist. You get the diagnosis.
Then what?
Then you have to let go of all the expectations you had.
You have to release the milestones you thought mattered and trust that your kid knows what they need.
You have to learn that sometimes the most important intervention is doing nothing and just letting them be a kid.
This is the hardest part. Because after fighting so hard to get answers, it's tempting to keep fighting. To optimize. To push for progress.
But sometimes progress looks like your kid putting up a boundary and saying "no more therapy." And your job is to listen.
Want to hear more about medical advocacy and parenting through complex diagnoses?
This advice came from my conversation with Nikki Holekamp, a pediatric occupational therapist who had to use every ounce of her professional training—and her parental intuition—to advocate for her son Asher, who has a rare neuromuscular condition. We went deep on navigating the medical system, getting second opinions, and why writing became the medicine she didn't know she needed.