Two short weeks from today we await the arrival of April’s full moon. Many cultures have assigned meaningful names to each month’s full moon, some of which have remained in use today, like September’s Harvest Moon. April’s moon has many names, among them Pink Moon, named for the wild ground phlox, or “pink” that blooms in profusion, the Sprouting Grass Moon, or the Fish Moon, honoring the upstream migration of fish to spawn. Most meaningful to our family tribe, however, is the designation Full Egg Moon. This is the full moon we suspect may deliver our baby.
Besides coinciding with the obstetrical calendar’s estimation of a due date, we have other reasons for this sneaking suspicion. Isadora arrived with the Harvest Moon, a full week late but perfectly developed and modestly sized. Long ago, when we had daily, regular contact with the moon in its phases, the rhythms of life were intimately tied to the gentle syncopation of the heavens. Womens’ cycles were said to be in sync with those of the moon, resulting in widespread fertility occurring at the same time the full moon illuminated the night sky. A possible explanation for the full moon’s reputation for crazy-making? Perhaps.
I first became aware of the possible influence a full moon had over birth around this time in my last pregnancy. I was feverishly reading and rereading birth stories to prepare for the natural, drug-free birth I was planning and noticed that a few of these accounts knowingly acknowledged the full moon. As my own due date came and went, I happened to check on the date of the next full moon. A full week after my due date? Surely I wouldn’t have to wait that long! Sure enough. From the tub in the Birth Center I snuck glimpses of that moon, drawing from it a sustaining strength and a reverence for the magical quality it possessed. From that point on, we both nourished that reverence and cultivated a constant awareness of the phases of the moon. Comments about the current phase became as commonplace between us as comments about the weather. We’ve been known to call each other to point out the extraordinary beauty of a particular night’s moon if we’re apart. And with this new awareness came a subtle synchronizing of my own cycle with that of the moon.
How fitting, then, if this baby chooses the Egg Moon for a birthday, riding the luminous glow of the full moon from the heavens into our world. Yet I can’t quite fathom how this belly can get any BIGGER, and, moon aside, wouldn’t be very surprised if the time came sooner rather than later. Two more weeks does seem like a lo-o-o-ng time. Either way, we’ll soon have our answer. And our baby.