I have been thinking about the cycles of the moon.

Last week I was at the doctor’s office for five appointments. It’s the kind of day that can wear a woman bare. There was some crying, some fussing and most of it wasn’t me. There was talk about a specialist appointment, I saw this coming. It’s minor but never something you want to hear. In the middle of the conversation I stood up. I played it off as placating a child but my intention was to walk out. I toyed with plugging my ears and humming but that seemed…..juvenile. Instead I sent brain waves to the doctor, Look, let’s talk about this next time. You said there is no rush, correct? Because today I’m at sixes and sevens. I can’t even remember if we ate breakfast and the moon is full.

In our bedroom we have sheer curtains because we like the light. For months now I have been feeling this impending return of my cycle. With breastfeeding you just never know. Hormones gather but can’t make it over the speed bump, sheer off to murmur around your body till next time they feel the pull. Teething, fevers, the ups and downs of toddler appetites make the return to my cycle a question mark for months. For these months I have been woken by the moon pouring in through the window, illuminating the night. I watch it make its path through till morning. The full moon in the country is a glorious thing.

I had been hoping the moon would be a good regulator for my body and the timing is near enough to make me happy. I now need to get back in the monthly groove. It won’t be easy. It has been a long time, over a decade, since I have had this type of┬áregularity. I wonder what kind of person I will be now.


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