Full Moon Child

Things have order, sequence, and plans. Except for, maybe, this baby. I shook my head, started the car and made my way to the hospital. Planned induction, at noon, and hopefully, a baby by early morning. I was committed to the schedule. Every plan I had made for my marriage, my family, and my life had recently gone awry. But, I was determined to stay in control. Or, as in control as someone can be while very pregnant and newly divorced.

Getting to the hospital was more comforting than I expected; everyone had a role, everyone had their script. Checked in, room already set, hospital gown on, and monitors hooked up. The only piece that needed tweaking was having to explain to every staff member that I was not going to have someone here with me and that I was okay with that. There was no one they could or should call. 

After less hours and more pain than planned, the baby arrived at 11pm. They laid her down on my chest and I sobbed for every reason that I had to lose it right in that moment. I was ripped up, both emotionally and physically. I was alone. I was scared. And I was amazed and intrigued. I had always wanted this moment to look differently. I had expected an overjoyed father beaming at both of us. I wanted an intrusive photographer ready to take photos that would be heavily altered to take away the pain that wore heavy on my face. But instead, I had this breathing lump on my chest; I made that. The baby’s eyes were open studying the room, even though I knew they could only see a few colors. But they lay still, as if continuing to listen to my heartbeat. The only heartbeat they had ever known. 

“What an angel.” The nurse’s words startled me. 

“Thank you,” I mumbled. 

“How about you get some sleep? I can place her right here next to you and dim the lights.”

I reluctantly agreed feeling the call of sleep start to pull me under but already missing her weight on my chest. 

When the nurse left, I moved the bassinet as close to my bed as I could without moving any major muscle groups below my ribs. I gently laid my hand on her stomach and closed my eyes. 

I shuttered awake to a quiet and dark room that wasn’t my own. I instantly moved my hand to my belly to notice that it felt less round and hard but still bigger and softer than it had been. In a moment of realization, I turned towards the bassinet to see the baby still sleeping. But it wasn’t morning yet. At least I didn’t think it was. What had woken me up? 

I caught a smell that hadn’t been in the room before. The pregnancy nose still hadn’t worn off apparently. Why did I smell roses? I looked at the shapes around the room. On my second scan from left to right, only lifting myself enough to remove my head and shoulders from the pillow, I noticed something on the nightstand. I reached out and touched a bouquet of roses. Those had not been there when I had fallen asleep. Odd. I padded the bed softly looking for my phone. I finally found it and slipped it under the covers. When I was sure that the light from the screen was soft enough to not rouse the baby, I slowly lifted it to get a better look at the flowers. Although, the screen’s light discolored everything, there was no denying that someone had sent me white roses. I had assumed there were a dozen of them in the ordinary glass vase. 

I moved the light slightly higher until I caught a glimmer of the card I had been looking for. Perfect. As my hand slowly reached for the card, it was hard not to consider the possible options. My mother would have been my first guess, but I knew she would be coming by tomorrow and bringing flowers would be more likely than trying to have them delivered. There was absolutely no way my husband, well ex-husband did it, he had made it very clear that he had no interest in playing any role in this little one’s life. My final guess was the hospital. A gift for all presumably lonely mothers. 

The card was blank on the cover. And inside, one word, “Welcome,” black cursive atop a cream card. Again, odd. I was too exhausted to even try and give this more thought. Sleep came quickly with the smell of roses still gently in the air. 

I was woken up again, but this time by something that made a little bit more sense. A child. My child, crying loudly. As I shook the sleep away and scooting towards her, the door opened and a nurse stepped inside. She quickly scooped up the baby and placed her in my arms, “Ready to nurse again?” No. Nothing prepares a woman for the pain of breastfeeding. But, instead, I nodded my head softly and moved aside my robe. She latched quickly, with some assistance from the nurse. As I cringed, I watched the little one’s eye begin to close again as her tummy filled. 

“Beautiful,” the nurse gently said.

“Yeah, she is.” I replied, clenching my teeth.

“The flowers too,” the nurse replied tilting her head towards the roses I had completely forgotten about. 

“Oh. Yes.” I shook my head, “Do you happen to know how they got here?”

The nurse tilted her head, “What do you mean?”

“Well, I’m not sure who they are from.”

“I’m not sure how to help you. Was there a card?” She started to turn towards the flowers as if to look herself.

“Yes, but, I meant, do you know who put them in the room?”

She turned towards me again and placed her hands in her scrub pockets. “Oh, they are usually delivered to the front desk by whatever delivery service they come from and then a volunteer or nurse grab them and bring them up to our desk. And then nurses deliver them to rooms as they have time.”

“But who delivered these?” I wasn’t sure why I kept pushing for this answer. I’m not sure it would tell me what I wanted to know. 

“Oh, I’m not sure. I just started my shift. But I’d be happy to ask and let you know.”

“Yes. No, it’s okay. It’s not important.”

“You sure?” 

I nodded my head. The nurse asked if I needed anything else before sliding out of the room. I should have asked her to stay and transport the baby back into her bassinet but it was too late. I would have to figure this out on my own. As I would many other things. I wasn’t above a challenge but this one felt like my biggest yet. Although, so far, it felt manageable. I glanced at the clock and noted that it had been about 2 hours since she had last fed. Which meant that the flowers must have been delivered shortly after I dosed off. Around midnight or maybe closer to 1. Now, I wasn’t quite sure what time I had fallen asleep. I sighed. Nameless flowers were the least of my worries. 

With many grunts under my breath and facial contortions to hide my discomfort, I had managed to get the baby back into her bassinet and myself back into bed. I laid my head down and turned to see her. But instead, I noticed something on my pillow sliding towards my face. What the? I picked up an envelope, a little larger than a business card. It was white with nothing written on it. I, again, patted wildly for my phone. After locating it, I gingerly throw the covers over my head with whatever fingers I had free while also holding on to my phone in one hand and the envelope with the other. 

With my phone screen lit up on my chest, I looked closer at the envelope. It was evident that that there was something inside, but before I torn into it, I wanted to make sure I didn’t miss anything. After carefully flipping it over multiple times, I didn’t notice anything unusual. But I was stuck on the question of how it had gotten here. I hadn’t left my room and the nurse had only approached the bed to adjust the baby’s head to latch. Maybe the contents would give me more of a clue. 

I opened the envelop and pulled out a cream colored business card. The side I was staring at had a list written on it vertically. I flipped it to the other side to see a stamped white circle, it was barely visible in the phone light but it had a slight glimmer that caught when shifted slightly. 

I flipped back to the list. It had what looked like a title on top: Things to Keep in Mind Now that You Have a Full Moon Child. I almost burst out laughing. This had to be a prank. I had some hippie friends who would think that this was pretty comical. Especially since I am a woman of science. Real science. No moons, crystals, or chakras over here. But, I was curious to see what the list entailed. 

1. Plant a white rose bush outside of your home within 6 months. 

Again, odd. This request, suggestion, idea, or whatever was exceptionally unlikely to happen. My landscape included grass that was either dried up or overgrown and a handful of trees that needed to be taken down or trimmed. As I thought about this, on the verge of giggles, I stopped quickly and remembered the roses on my nightstand. I pursed my lips. Impressive how far they went. I’m just not sure who would have had the tack.

2. Introduce a water-bound creature into your home within the first year. 

This was as unlikely as the landscaping request. I was already bringing a baby home. There was no way I was going to take on the responsibility of yet another life. 

3. On each subsequent full moon, kiss the child on the forehead, in direct moonlight. 

I had no thoughts regarding this request.

4. Whenever in the presence of a rabbit, attempt to make eye contact, to thank them for your gift.

What gift? The flowers? My child? And why a rabbit? I had no space to process this one.

5. You must tell no one of this.

Finally, one I could fulfill. 

I tucked the list back into the envelope, turned my phone light off and placed the letter next to the roses. I had little executive functioning to start the night; I had even less currently. I would worry about all of this at a later date, or never. At this moment, all I wanted was sleep. 

There were a couple more feedings during the night. Each time, a nurse would help a little less to get the baby to latch, but I would still cringe during the process. No new notes or flowers were found and I was able to fall back asleep quickly each time. 

The morning came earlier than I wanted it to, and along with it came my mother. 

“Oh, sweetie, she’s beautiful,” she gushed as I started the morning feed. My mom has always been a fierce supporter of mine. She was supportive through the divorce and even more so through this pregnancy. Although, I never expect much criticism from her, I was still surprised that she seemed more than okay with it all. It was yet another topic I would have to address as soon as my brain went back to working the way it used to. 

“You want to know something funny?” I began as I looked over my shoulder to the bouquet of roses, that was no longer there. 

“What, honey?” 

I staggered to get out another word. I kept turning my head behind me, over one shoulder and then the other. From the angle I was at, I couldn’t see if the card was there or not. 

“What is it, honey? Is everything okay?” There was no denying the concern in her voice. 

As the baby finished up eating, I covered up, handed her to my mom and scooted towards to nightstand to find it empty. No evidence that it had looked differently earlier. 

“Sweetie…” My mom moved towards me while laying the baby gently into the bassinet. 

“I’m fine. I just…” She sat down next to me and started rubbing my back. 

“This is an emotional experience for everyone. And after the year you have had. It’s okay to be a little overwhelmed.” 

Everything she had said was true. But that wasn’t what had happened. Yet, how could I tell her what had happened? Had it been possible that it was all a dream? Did I make it up? I must have. But I couldn’t have. I put my head in my hands. This was so stupid.

“I’m okay. Thank you.” 

As my mom and I stared at the bassinet. She commented, “She is such a calm baby.” 

As I nodded my head an unprovoked thought entered. That’s because she’s a full moon child. I stopped nodding and looked at her again. “Was I not like this as a baby?” 

My mom chuckled softly, “Absolutely not. You were a hellfire. But most kids are. They are loud and cranky and think everything revolves around them. But this little one,” she nodded towards the bassinet, “She seems to go where she is led.”

Just like the moon.

“I hope she continues to be an easy child for you.”

I found myself nodding longer than socially acceptable. But I felt as though I kept repeating the words on the card. Things to keep in mind now that you have a full moon child. Although I had only read the list once, I had the entire list memorized: roses, animal, kiss, rabbit, secret. Was this an instruction manual for my child? There was no way it would be that easy. Would I seriously consider it? Could I afford not to? 

“Did you decide on a name?” My mom asked innocently. 

“Luna,” I said without hesitation. “Luna.” I repeated, knowing better the plan.