Thursday, December 16, 2010

What I did with my placenta....

A couple of weeks before Gloria was born I was given the number for a woman in Santa Fe who would come to my house to pick up my placenta and turn it into capsules that I can take. The person who recommended this service said that she did it (and also tried a little placenta in a smoothie... which made her gag because she detected a fleshy chunk) and the benefits included warding off post partum depression, and speeding up the healing process after birth.

I tucked the number into my wallet and promised myself to at least think about it.

And I did.  I mean, how often do we have a chance to do something as primal and, well, weird, as eating a placenta? Not very. And I would just love to see this person who will come to my house and wisk away what was - hours ago - a body part of mine and come back with some special vitamins to take.

But rather than call the lady, I started talking to other people.  It was a toss up.  Most of my friends in  town were all for it and were ready to recite the list of benefits (but I'm still not sure how many of them have tried it).  My relatives were all pretty against it.... Mainly because of the ick factor.

My sister, Katie, said, "Sure, a lot of animals eat their placentas. But they also eat their own poop."

(My mother in law pointed out a hilarious Joel Stein article about placenta eating and crossed her fingers that I would change my mind, or that I was really just kidding all along)

Quinn was mildly aware that I was thinking about eating the placenta when it came out.  Later, he told me that the only thing he could compare it to was when his dad came home from South America with a real shrunken head, and his mom devoted her life to getting rid of that thing. He desperately wanted it out of the house.

But my midwife took a moment to reflect on it. "My, that is a good looking placenta!" she said, pointing out the thick veins that branched out from the umbilical chord.  "These are called the roots of life."
his
"Take a picture!" I told him, and pointed to the camera on the bookshelf.

Halo popped in sometime after the paramedics to make sue that we were all still alive.  I'm not sure if she witnessed the delivery of the afterbirth, but she did come in time to see a big mess, and to remind Quinn of several inspiring things we could do with the afterbirth... just as he was on his way to throw it away.

He ended up wrapping it in a plastic bag and putting it in the freezer.

I thought, "Well nuts.  The pill lady won't take it because it's not supposed to be frozen."

We spent the rest of the week wrapping other foods in plastic bags and putting them into the freezer, and joking about slipping a little placenta into one another's chili. But nothing came of it, and finally Quinn asked if he could throw it away, and I said sure.  Let's face it... the main reason I would want to eat it is so I could blog about it later on.  And I'm still doing that.

Friday, December 3, 2010

The Derrière Caretaker

I just gave birth on Monday, so naturally, it was time to send Quinn to the store to get some pads. His man's jobs are getting more and more manly by the day.  Normally I don't ask him to buy that type of thing, but I'm not supposed to be up and about too much.

Quinn's mom said that when he was born her husband wouldn't buy them for her.... she had to walk in the store herself.  But he still owes her for that! Quinn thought that owing me forever would be far worse than buying pads, so he went to the store with the list.

It was the kind of list that made him thank the lord for automatic self-checkouts. Overnight maxi pads, two sizes of diapers, wipes, toilet paper and Desitin. Everything that he was buying was for someone's hind end.

So naturally, when he went through the self-checkout, he got the obnoxious beeping message on the screen: "Please see attendant". After the attendant made a show of sorting through his purchases, he thought he was free, but instead he set off the security alarm so that everyone in the store could see his armload of merchandise.

I didn't even realize, until he got home and dumped all of the stuff on the couch that I realized that there was a theme to this grocery store trip. We laughed so hard.  He said that if there was another store in town, now would be the time for him to start to go there.