Doctor, Are You Even Listening? A Mom’s Guide to Speaking Up (Louder)

May 5

Alright, mama. Picture this: you're sitting in the sterile, freezing exam room wearing a paper gown that may as well be a napkin. You’ve just explained—maybe for the fourth time—that you’re exhausted, your joints hurt, your hair is falling out, you haven’t pooped like a normal human in three weeks, and you cry when your kid spills applesauce because your nervous system is that fried.

And then…

Your doctor, with a straight face, says:
“Sounds like depression. Let’s get you on something for that.”

Cue internal screaming.

Now, listen, I’m not here to throw shade at all doctors. Some are phenomenal. But many moms know exactly what it feels like to walk into an appointment, spill their guts, and get handed a script—or worse, a pat on the head and a “Well, that’s just motherhood!”

Let me be crystal clear: You are not crazy. You are not overreacting. You are not "just tired."
You're a woman in the trenches of motherhood, likely running a household, raising small humans, possibly working a job, and holding everyone else together with your last frayed nerve.

And if something feels off in your body or brain? It’s because something is off.

So how do you advocate for yourself when it feels like no one in the white coat is paying attention?
Let’s talk strategy. Real-life, doable, bite-size strategy. No TED Talk required.

Common Scenarios That Moms Deal With (And Why They Suck)

“You’re probably just stressed.”
Translation: “You’re a mom, what did you expect?”
What’s missed: underlying thyroid issues, hormonal imbalances, nutrient deficiencies, chronic infections, trauma responses. You name it.
“Your labs are normal.”
Cool. Then explain why I feel like I’ve been hit by a hormonal truck for the past 9 months.
“Let’s try this medication.”
And by try, they mean forever, without a single lifestyle question asked or root cause explored.
“You’re just getting older.”
So 35 means I get to feel like a 90-year-old sloth? Hard pass.

The MOM Strategy for Self-Advocacy (Because of Course It’s an Acronym)

M – Make a List (and Bring Receipts)

Before your appointment, jot down:

Your top 3 symptoms (in clear language, like: “can’t fall asleep,” “crash at 2pm,” “crying at laundry”)
When it started and how it's affecting your life
What you’ve already tried (Supplements? Diet? Quitting caffeine only to relapse three days later? It all counts.)

Bonus: If you tracked your symptoms in an app or notebook, bring that too. You’re not just tired—you’re data-driven.

O – Own Your Voice

No more shrinking into the chair while someone gaslights your reality.

Try these lines:

“I understand that my labs look normal, but I don’t feel normal, and I’d like to explore that further.”
“I’m not comfortable jumping straight to a prescription without understanding the root cause.”
“Can we dig deeper into my hormones/nutrition/gut health? Something isn’t right and I want to figure out what it is.”

Practice saying it in the mirror, to your dog, or during school pick-up line therapy chats.

M – Map Out Plan B (and C, and D)

If your provider won’t listen? Guess what—you’re allowed to break up with them. Shocking, I know.

Options include:

Finding an integrative or functional medicine practitioner who actually gives a damn about your whole picture.
Working with a health coach (ahem) to connect the dots no one else is seeing.
Asking for referrals from other moms who’ve fought this battle and won.

There’s a whole underground network of tired-but-resilient moms who’ve had to MacGyver their way through healthcare. Join us.

Real Talk: Advocacy is a Muscle

You’re not going to go from people-pleasing PTA co-chair to medical warrior queen overnight. But every time you ask the hard question, every time you say “I’m not okay and I’m not settling for that answer,” you build strength.

You’re not being dramatic. You’re not being difficult.
You’re being a mother who knows her body better than someone who sees you once a year for 11 minutes.

And that makes you a freaking force.

Let’s Wrap With a Pep Talk

You carried a human being. You’ve wiped butts, survived Target tantrums, and you STILL remember your Wi-Fi password. That makes you fully qualified to walk into a room and say:

“I know myself. I trust my instincts. And I won’t be dismissed.”

So go in there, clipboard in hand, full sass in your step.
You’re not just advocating for you.
You’re setting the example for every little girl who’s going to grow up and wonder if her pain is valid.

(Spoiler: It is.)

Call to Action

If this fired you up even a little bit, hit that share button. Send it to your mama group chat, your newly postpartum friend, or the mom who just told you she’s so tired but doesn’t know why.