{"id":485,"date":"2025-11-22T05:51:38","date_gmt":"2025-11-22T05:51:38","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/euphemism.illinoisstate.edu\/21-1\/?page_id=485"},"modified":"2025-11-22T08:11:22","modified_gmt":"2025-11-22T08:11:22","slug":"the-moons-child","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/euphemism.illinoisstate.edu\/21-1\/fiction\/the-moons-child\/","title":{"rendered":"The Moon\u2019s Child"},"content":{"rendered":"

Lyric Knuckles<\/span><\/p>\n

Even with her newborn, bundled in her arms now, Luna still could not fathom much about the future. She had wrapped the baby girl once with a fleece blanket, then again in a light cover to combat the office\u2019s cold temperature. Staring into her baby\u2019s velvet soft face, Luna hardly noticed how fast her own knee was bouncing, how she continued to rock back and forth as if the child were still crying. Her bones had become bent like that somehow, curved, like she was trying to embody her womb\u2019s warmth. Constantly hunched over, rocking the forever crying baby. The chair\u2019s leather cushion stuck to Luna\u2019s sweaty back thighs, her jean shorts chafing and rolling themselves toward her crotch. Dr. Kembil banged down on the shock yellow, large print keyboard.<\/span><\/p>\n

Sketches of the month since Luna\u2019s last visit, the one in which Dr.\u00a0Kembil\u00a0delivered her baby, etched themselves again in front of her. The enormity of her new predicament\u00a0didn\u2019t\u00a0register until Gemma was fastened in her car seat, the outside heat evaporating the hospital\u2019s cool ease. Luna looked up at the maternity ward before she pulled off, aching for all the nurses\u2019 assurance that she would be a great mom. Their gentle attentiveness, their expert swaddling skills. The car seat enveloped the little infant, hardly pushing six pounds, and the July sun, bearing down in Savannah, Georgia, s\u200ba\u200b<\/span>\u200bu\u200b<\/span>nk into\u200b both <\/span>their bones.<\/span><\/p>\n

The first night alone with the baby twisted into chaos when Luna laid her\u00a0in\u00a0the bedside bassinet. Just as instructed, she gently turned Gemma onto her back, removed any hint of all the gifted stuffed rabbits. The baby wailed and wailed\u00a0\u200b\ufffc\u200b<\/span>until the two were curled into each other, Gemma resting on Luna\u2019s swollen breasts. This is where she would stay between every two hours when she needed to gulp a bottle, and still further as sleepless nights merged into the day. Since Gemma\u2019s birth, Luna was in constant motion, a steady limbo between tasks, a foggy brain obscuring any motivation to shower.<\/span><\/p>\n

Dr. Kembil listened, typing away, never diverting her attention from the screen until she heard light sniffles.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s just\u2026really hard,\u201d Luna said, failing to reach for a more adequate word.<\/span><\/p>\n

The doctor\u2019s hands stopped moving midair before she folded them in front of her. She cleared her throat, pushed a stray grey hair behind her ear.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAfter listening to you, honey, I do want to tell you postpartum depression is very common. That\u2019s what I\u2019m hearing from you, those symptoms. What about trying an antidepressant? Then, you can come back and let me know how things are going,\u201d Dr. Kembil gently said. Her concerned look, brows meeting each other like two long lost friends, made Luna want to fall apart.<\/span><\/p>\n

Dr. Kembil continued in a much lower tone, \u201cHave you had thoughts of harming yourself or your baby?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Luna fluttered her eyelashes to drive the tears away, and stared down at Gemma. Hardly parting her lips, she whispered a definite \u201cno.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

It being August now, Luna decided to wait the hour for her prescription to be filled despite the miserable heat. The AC inside her two-door blasted while the two of them killed time: Luna staring aimlessly around the pharmacy\u2019s parking lot, Gemma sleeping on her chest. The baby was an extension both to and of her, clawing to cling to her with an almost identical face. Well, Luna thought, the baby\u2019s long and wide forehead, her deep brown eyes definitely came from her mother. The rest of her features were a maze Luna had given up fighting her way through. Oftentimes, Gemma looked like a few of the men from the one night stands. Most of the hurried nights found her from dating apps, others happened in her job\u2019s bathroom stalls. Luna packed random online orders into various sized, cardboard boxes in a warehouse. Within a ten hour shift, she could be packing van tires or dildos.<\/span><\/p>\n

Rapid knocks hit the driver side window, causing Luna to tighten her grip around Gemma. An older woman was bent over peering inside of the car, looking from the mother to the child, and back again.<\/span><\/p>\n

Luna rolled the window down, the air conditioner immediately pelting the woman\u2019s dampened forehead from her close proximity.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cY\u2019all alright in there? Good to feel that cold air pushing out on that baby, I saw ya and got worried sick. Look like you fallin\u2019 asleep, child.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

The woman inched closer, her entire head almost fully inside, or maybe that was Luna\u2019s panicked brain imagining that, flinching at the thought of appearing negligent.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYes, yes ma\u2019am. We alright. Waiting on some medicine,\u201d Luna tried to quickly assure her to send the old woman back to her errands.<\/span><\/p>\n

She could swear, until this day, that the woman\u2019s deep wrinkles were drawn in the same pattern as Dr. Kembil\u2019s.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThat itty bitty baby, aww. If I was you, I would keep her at home. Right on outta all this heat. She just born. Just now gettin\u2019 her full skin color,\u201d the woman said, her words beginning lightly, but ending with a stern push. Her back country hospitality wouldn\u2019t let her walk away without a wave.<\/span><\/p>\n

***<\/span><\/p>\n

Naming the baby\u00a0had been\u00a0easy. It was the same\u00a0spelling,\u00a0made up\u00a0from\u00a0the same bubble letters Luna drew on her binder in high school. Gemma. A compact name, distinct for a little black girl, Luna decided. She held onto the name until ten years after\u00a0graduating.\u200b\ufffc\u200b<\/span>\u00a0Holding onto the past for too long does something to the brain. Especially when Luna was constantly reaching backwards, oblivious to what was coming for and to her.\u00a0\u200bMid twenties\u200b<\/span>\u200bMid-twenties\u200b<\/span>\u00a0with her first child, she considered it an accomplishment. When she filled out the birth certificate forms, all she could hear ringing in her ears were their names tinkling beside each other: Luna and Gemma. As she grew older, Luna envisioned, kids would not butcher her daughter\u2019s name, rather, they would cut the cord once\u00a0more, and\u00a0simply call her\u00a0Gem.<\/i><\/span><\/p>\n

And, that was a pretty nickname too. That\u2019s as far as family planning went for Luna all these years: a pretty name for a pretty girl, one who would love her for eternity.<\/span><\/p>\n

Luna eyed the white dot in the palm of her hand after they returned home. She discovered Gemma would sleep alone–however short the interval–if Luna placed one of her t-shirts near her. She turned and turned the medication over in her hand, a cup of water in the other. Like a puppy in new territory, her ears were perked, trained by now to listen for the slightest whimper from Gemma. They lived in a shotgun house; there wasn\u2019t much room for Luna to escape the gripping panic latched to her when she laid the baby down alone. \u200b\ufffc\u200b<\/span>From the master bedroom straight back to the bathroom, she had spent days, gripping the side of the claw foot tub, dry heaving the empty air inside her stomach.<\/span><\/p>\n

A debate on whether or not to call her own mother sprang from her mind once or twice.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou don\u2019t need no medicine. Lay it in the Lord\u2019s hands and pray,\u201d Mama would reflexively advise, Luna knew.<\/span><\/p>\n

Within the last month, Mama\u2019s visits to Luna and her new grandchild became\u00a0fewer and fewer. In those first days, her mother gave her doting care as an offering. She made\u00a0\u200b\ufffc\u200b<\/span>her infamous spaghetti, a long hated dish that lasted a week at a time when Luna was a child, but one she devoured as a mother herself. The visits slackened into calls which dwindled into daily text messages: Good morning, Kiss Gemma for me!<\/span><\/p>\n

Suspended in the same position, Luna toyed with the pill between her fingers. Dishes crusted over with ranch dressing were stacked in the sink, left over from the times she kept a dizzy spell at bay by snacking on freezer burnt mozzarella sticks. Heaps of bibs, onesies, and towels mocked her from the couch, muttering about being folded and put away. She thought about how her\u00a0maternity leave\u00a0would end soon.\u00a0\u200b\ufffc\u200b<\/span>How everyone would expect her to be herself after returning to her place in the packing department, the only difference being their expectations to be shown baby pictures during lunch.<\/span><\/p>\n

Luna pinched the medicine as if it were her skin, trying to squeeze out the new life it promised. It will fix me, she encouraged herself. It will make me a better mom, one who can remember the last time Gemma ate without the child blaring her demands. A grown woman who can clean her house without the thought exhausting me. I can make it to the grocery store, maybe with a written list, without my heart making feverish attempts to jump out of my chest.<\/span><\/p>\n

Dr. Kembil said the medicine would take effect in about one week.<\/span><\/p>\n

***<\/span><\/p>\n

The days that followed were the same until one of them happened to be different. The shift was subtle; it went undetected amid the surging heat waves, the air conditioner pumping overtime inside the house. Everything smelled like Gemma\u2019s waste. Similac that she kept throwing up. Soiled diapers littering the abandoned bassinet.<\/span><\/p>\n

One morning, irritated at her lack of clean panties,\u00a0all of\u00a0her sweat soaked bras, Luna hauled the two of them out to the Dollar \u2018N Save down the street in nothing but a nightgown.\u00a0In her tribal patterned bonnet, breast swinging, she browsed the aisles,\u00a0slippered\u00a0feet dragging behind her. Her eyes were widened, like a child\u2019s, at items she usually passed by. Strawberry body scrubs, the slightly higher priced make-up.\u00a0\u200b\ufffc\u200b<\/span>Love Spell<\/i>, a perfume that warped time back to her late teens when she would douse herself with it right after getting high. Luna idled there, opening containers, inhaling slowly.<\/span><\/p>\n

The same happened with the cleaning products, Luna sniffing the Gain detergent and being reminded of helping her mother to hang dry their underwear outside in the projects, embarrassed.<\/span><\/p>\n

Soon, the cart was filled with bits and pieces of Luna\u2019s old selves, that\u2019s how it seemed to her. An idea of mending herself back together made cable sparks run along her veins.\u00a0\u200b\ufffc\u200b<\/span>She would beautify herself, become who she was with regretful appreciation.<\/span><\/p>\n

She didn’t know how good she had it back then.<\/span><\/p>\n

The overall total reached deep into the hundreds by the time Luna finished. She swiped her credit card, the one her bills were automatically paid with, without shedding a doubt for the upcoming rent week.<\/span><\/p>\n

All of the memories that had bombarded her pushed her over the edge that day, making her head split open into a frenzy. To any onlooker, Luna glowed. In spite of the get up she had chosen, her head was high on the way out, shopping bags almost hiding Gemma. An electric hum was moving through her now.<\/span><\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

Time kept ticking towards midnight before Luna realized she had used the last diaper,\u00a0failing to grab\u00a0more at the store earlier. Their afternoon was spent with her slathering new skincare on her face, trying out lipsticks, rummaging through her clothes. Recreating herself. Then, for hours, Luna contemplated\u00a0\u200bon\u00a0\u200b<\/span>whether or not to return to work at all. The moon was a moment past reaching the sky\u2019s pinnacle when they\u00a0\u200bcreeped\u00a0\u200b<\/span>\u200bcrept\u00a0\u200b<\/span>into the night.<\/span><\/p>\n

There, in the store\u2019s almost empt\u200by\u200b<\/span>\u200bied\u200b<\/span>\u00a0parking lot, Luna caught a pair of speckled green eyes just as the owner of them caught hers. They held each other in a stare down, her on the way back to the car, him\u00a0trailing behind a group of friends. She broke eye contact first, listening as the group\u2019s conversation broke off behind her.\u00a0\u200b\ufffc\u200b<\/span>His shadow approached and stretched to join hers just as she unlocked the doors.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u00a0heading\u00a0home?\u201d\u00a0\u200bh\u200b<\/span>\u200bH\u200b<\/span>e asked, his broad shouldered body halting at a fair distance between them.<\/span><\/p>\n

Luna smirked, throwing the box of diapers in the car before securing both her hands on the cart again, making sure Gemma was still asleep.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cLooking this way at this hour? You can bet on it,\u201d Luna replied, watching him watch her. Up this close, she could see the speckles in his eyes were brown, making them a murky lake Luna could drown in.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWell, you can\u2019t have no man to hurry back to. I know he didn\u2019t send a pretty thing like you out by ya self.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

To this, Luna\u00a0didn\u2019t\u00a0acknowledge. After waddling around for nine months, after giving birth,\u00a0\u200b\ufffc\u200b<\/span>the flame of attention could still burn her alive if it wanted to. She tightened the muscles in her thighs, threw a hip out then added her hand on top. A warmth was rising inside of her, incinerating the isolated season she had been in as of late.<\/span><\/p>\n

At her lack of a reply, he continued, saying, \u201cI could grab us a case of beers. I could come over? We could have us a night.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Possibilities kept spreading from his mouth, and it was like the bulge Luna gained during pregnancy finally lacked in meaning. She could accept his invitation because her body belonged to her again.<\/span><\/p>\n

They exchanged numbers, Luna gave him her address.<\/span><\/p>\n

Not once did he look down in Luna\u2019s cart to notice the baby bundled inside.<\/span><\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

With Gemma tucked away in the bedroom, Luna stood alone with the man in the main room. Everett was his name.\u00a0\u200b\ufffc\u200b<\/span>He made a big show\u00a0out of\u00a0\u200b\ufffc\u200b<\/span>sitting the bag with the case of beers down, extending his muscled arms to stretch, and letting out a satisfied breath. Then, he dug into his loose jeans, pulled out a pack of Marlboros, a lighter studded in a gold case, and a roll of cash the size of his fist, lining them all up on Luna\u2019s worn coffee table. Leading the way, she pulled him down on the couch beside her. The next day had come, time heading on into the morning hours, and with it, Luna\u2019s senses sailed too.<\/span><\/p>\n

Everett cocked his head back, looking behind him. He trailed a finger along the spines lining the built-in bookshelves.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cGotta lil\u2019 collection here, huh?\u201d He rubbed the stubble on his chin. The jersey he wore was oversized, but when he leaned back into the cushions, his stomach jutted out.<\/span><\/p>\n

Luna gave him a bashful smile, waving away that part of the conversation with a nod. Everett pulled open the beer case, the TV flickering across them, turning them red then yellow. The show was only background noise to the invisible music they were playing with their fingers, probing parts of each other. She laid her hands across his knees. He\u00a0curved a thumb\u00a0around her baby weight, making her\u00a0cringe. The heat waves of earlier were grasping for her even at this late hour.\u00a0\u200b\ufffc\u200b<\/span>Heartbeat skipping like the wrong radio station, Luna leaned in closer, the silver cross pendant of her necklace swinging to touch his chest.<\/span><\/p>\n

Subtly dodging a first kiss, he returned another question to her. \u201cHow long since you had your kid?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

She\u00a0didn\u2019t\u00a0let the hint\u00a0linger,\u00a0didn\u2019t\u00a0let it rub against her. Luna gave him the distance he needed, backing away, one leg beneath her\u00a0now\u00a0so she seemed perched. The reminder of her parental status tickled a thought that kept resulting in another: She was a mother now.\u00a0There\u2019s\u00a0an entire person, alive in this world, who she\u00a0was responsible for. Gemma could wake up screaming at any time now. She was attached to Luna\u2019s hip, her arms, the very genes of her being, even tucked a room away.\u00a0\u200b\ufffc\u200b<\/span>She was a mother now.<\/span><\/p>\n

Thinking this made her desire to float away in his cloudy eyes intensify, made her head spin. Clawing away from who she was now, tearing to get back to a single twenty-something girl. Not the bloated woman she\u2019d become.<\/span><\/p>\n

Everett\u2019s look on her was relaxed, but his hands fidgeted as if he had forgotten he had placed his things on the table.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAlmost two months now,\u201d Luna said,\u00a0\u200b\ufffc\u200b<\/span>the static steadily increasing inside her, a feeling that was readying itself for something she did not know.<\/span><\/p>\n

With this answer, he began to trace the outline of her stomach again, ending right at the top of her waistband.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cOh, you\u2019re good and ready to go then,\u201d he said, hoisting himself up higher now.<\/span><\/p>\n

There was a bomb stuffed into Luna\u2019s crevices, counting down until Gemma\u2019s next cry. The next time a man might look her way and see a resemblance of the wild streak she used to have.<\/span><\/p>\n

Luna took the opportunity again, swinging her body around to sit in his lap. Up this close, his features defied his loose nature. His shadowy\u00a0beard,\u00a0sprinkled here and there with gray\u00a0hairs.\u00a0\u200b\ufffc\u200b<\/span>The thick, but mushy girth of his body. The deep lines around those eyes. She wriggled out of her clothes, tight now since post-pregnancy days, then unfastened his belt, pulling his jeans down to hug his shoes.<\/span><\/p>\n

The position was intentional, she did not want to take her hungry gaze off of his. He returned the look, but then pressed his eyes shut, thrashing his head from side to side.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cLook at me, baby,\u201d Luna said.<\/span><\/p>\n

Everett gripped her hips harder, continuing with the same head motions.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cOpen your eyes. Look at me I said.\u201d Luna grabbed his head in the same fashion as the hold he had on her.<\/span><\/p>\n

In that one small moment, she realized that feeling inside of her needed the polluted water in his eyes to satiate her thirst. Everett\u2019s green eyes were the answer, a gateway back to a place that would make more sense than where she was now. She could swear she heard a whine from the bedroom, yet she continued bouncing, keeping her hold on him fastened.<\/span><\/p>\n

Luck, chance, had been\u00a0on\u00a0her side tonight. She never let the diaper supply run low, and the one time she did, a solution materialized. Everett could remain imprisoned in this\u00a0moment,\u00a0he did not have to promise her any more time.\u00a0\u200b\ufffc\u200b<\/span>All he had to do was keep looking at her, keep the possibility of returning to herself alive.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThe hell, girl?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Everett slung her off of him then stumbled across the room, hurriedly untwisting his pants legs.<\/span><\/p>\n

Luna spun around in the couch corner, crouched there, her nails digging deep into her sides. Long, black strands of her hair stood up and around her nodding head.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u200b<\/span>\u201cCan you see me now? I said open, open! I can make magic happen if you would just look at me,\u201d Luna pleaded, her voice becoming softer, fainter, like a young girl\u2019s.<\/span><\/p>\n

His face warped into a mix of confusion and disgust, snatching his belongings up from the table, rolling the wad of money around in his hand, eyeing her for the last time before he left.<\/span><\/p>\n

A soft, yellow hue masked the windows now. Luna uncurled herself, dressed.<\/span><\/p>\n

She walked around the narrow space of her home on her tiptoes, feeling light for the first time in over a year. She could be\u00a0herself,\u00a0again. This was a fresh morning, it was a new day fit for\u00a0\u200b\ufffc\u200b<\/span>a freshened Luna, again a girl in a tube dress–this time, with fresh eyes. Eyes like Everett\u2019s, Luna joked to herself. Except, hers were a brilliant green, shedding light on a newly paved road. Her senses dizzied themselves, swirling with the sudden escalation. The lack of sleep made her body twitch, but a surge of energy was thumping against that, refusing to rest on her new discovery.<\/span><\/p>\n

These exciting thoughts played around in her mind as she came into the second bedroom. Gemma\u2019s pristine nursery, the one room Luna had labored over exacting the right paint hues. Two varying purples, one lilac, one royal. Her feet sank into the plush rug while she let her fingers trail over all the baby items. An aunt had given a wooden crib that turned into storage space. Another gift was the matching diaper bag and stroller. The memories of the baby shower, the artificial support given, made tears stream down Luna\u2019s face faster than she could catch them.<\/span><\/p>\n

Just like water to a stove fire, the tears only added fuel for her desperate thoughts to expand. She had to leave, had to abandon this nursery, the overflowing trash in the kitchen, any cry for help.<\/span><\/p>\n

In between changing and feeding Gemma, Luna stuffed a trash bag full of what she deemed essential for the two of them. The ride could be long, could be short, but the destination would find them on their way. In her mind\u2019s eye, there were glowing, green street lights illuminating the right direction.<\/span><\/p>\n

Loading the car and strapping them both in, Luna began to drive through the sleepy town towards the interstate.\u00a0\u200b\ufffc\u200b<\/span>Outside the car blended together like water colors. Luna accelerated, disregarding curves, merging into tight spaces.<\/span><\/p>\n

After a while, the green lights were all she could see.<\/span><\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

Sticky bandages were clinging to her. One on her arm, another bloodied on her leg. It was time for them to be changed. A shy moon lay half hidden by clouds in the night sky, not that it didn\u2019t always look like night from the tinted windows on the hospital\u2019s fourth floor. That was fine. Nights comforted her.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou experienced a manic episode,\u201d the\u00a0ward\u2019s\u00a0doctor had explained days ago, but up until\u00a0this\u00a0night, the word still rattled around her mind.\u00a0Manic.\u00a0<\/i>The doctor had let the spiked word drop out of his mouth, landing flatly on the grimy floor tiles.<\/span><\/p>\n

Bipolar disorder. Usually develops in early to\u00a0<\/i>\u200bmid adulthood<\/i>\u200b<\/span>\u200bmid-adulthood<\/i>\u200b<\/span>. Medication induced. Postpartum. Right, right, sure does take a village.<\/i><\/span><\/p>\n

The doctor, the nurses, the sitters, they all talked as if this wing was a morgue, as if all of the patients\u2019 ears had already fallen deaf.<\/span><\/p>\n

In the early night hours, the nurses would come to check vitals. They would find Luna, curled around herself, rocking a bundle of blankets.<\/span><\/p>\n

To anyone who would listen, she would say, \u201cMy baby will be one soon, she\u2019s getting so big. You see that mole by her eye? Look, got that right from me, her mama. Think we look alike? She was born a month after my birthday, on the exact same day. Funny how the universe works. Our names kind of rhyme. I\u2019m Luna. This is Gemma–Gem for short. Not like a boy\u2019s name, like a jewel or treasure. Gem.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u200b\u200bAnd, she would continue rocking her bundle, there in her assigned room, until night became morning.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

\nLyric Knuckles Even with her newborn, bundled in her arms now, Luna still could not fathom much about the future.…\n<\/div>\n
Continue reading “The Moon\u2019s Child”<\/span>…<\/a><\/div>\n","protected":false},"author":83,"featured_media":0,"parent":14,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-485","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry","entry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/euphemism.illinoisstate.edu\/21-1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/485","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/euphemism.illinoisstate.edu\/21-1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/euphemism.illinoisstate.edu\/21-1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/euphemism.illinoisstate.edu\/21-1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/83"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/euphemism.illinoisstate.edu\/21-1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=485"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/euphemism.illinoisstate.edu\/21-1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/485\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":512,"href":"https:\/\/euphemism.illinoisstate.edu\/21-1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/485\/revisions\/512"}],"up":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/euphemism.illinoisstate.edu\/21-1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/14"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/euphemism.illinoisstate.edu\/21-1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=485"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}