Moon Walk

for Theo

Menstrual flow shutdown
moon cycle interrupted
blood turns inward
growing the stranger within
wondrous little creature
symbiont fed by and feeding
my heart.

That spring my son
and my lungs waged war
the struggle to draw in breath
to exchange oxygen across the mucous-clogged barrier
between pulmonary and cardiovascular
my son grew his own lungs
racing for mature-enough
soon enough
to support him
if mine failed to support us both.

Jettison the parasite, my body cried.
Hold onto the child, my heart beat back.
All the while the steady underlying
asthmatic accordion wheeze
inhale . . . two . . . three . . . hold . . .
exhale-hard-out . . . two . . . three . . . rest . . .
That spring
it was harder to push air
out of my lungs
than it had been
to push either of my daughters
out into their future.

Countdown
hold on
twelve more weeks . . . eleven . . . ten . . . major attack.