Journey to Placenta of the Earth

Question:

Am I the only one, even after birthin' three babies, who totally forgets about the placenta???

I mean, not NOW, but you know that moment, like an emotionally-manipulative insurance commercial, when baby is finally pushed on through, handed to mom, and the new parents look all naive and googley at that naked, kicking, little flesh ball?

Then.

"Ohhh, you're not done just yet!" some nurse chimes, like there's one more present under the tree.

"You've still got to push out the PLACENTA!!!"

I do?!?! I do?!?! Yay!

The placenta is like the air-tight storage bags that come with the vegetable steamer as seen on TV. "But wait! If you order now, you can have a giant triangle of bloody tissue slide right out of your love tunnel, all for FREE just for ordering an episiotomy and lifelong bladder difficulties!"

And certainly after excruciating labor and a room full of people instructing you how to get that baby out, including (for me) husband, mother, (like they know), doctor, nurse, UPS guy, Santa Claus, my fourth grade teacher, and various other unnamed people traipsing in to ask me if I have a history of herpes or high blood pressure, that placenta is just an after thought (or after birth, either way).

Yes, the placenta. Even the name has an exotic ring to it, like an Italian designer ("And look at Naomi Watts in Placenta! I would have liked to have seen her with bolder jewelry, though...") or a dish you serve to impress your friends ("I hear this wine goes with placenta. I've never made it before, so I hope it's good...").

And speaking of, I know you've heard of some new mothers, um, how do I put this, eating the placenta.

Yes.

Some educated, Western mothers ritually eat parts of the placenta, sometimes even with crackers (curious - what wine do you serve with that?). Not sure why, not sure. Maybe they just tire of the ice chips. But it is not uncommon.

Well, maybe it is uncommon (here's hoping), but it is done.

However, I'm sure it's not you.

I think the same people who do this also live off the grid, scoff at ideas such as "shaving" or "store-bought soap", and use their 'land' as their restroom to conserve water. I don't know; I'm just sayin'. My apologies if you enjoy a little placenta every now and then and I am way off the mark.

But at least the placenta-consumers are unlikely to have forgotten about it just when they think they can start calling friends and order a pizza. How can you when you bring your own bib and cutlery to the hospital?

Yes, just as Jim and I marvel at the squirming new life before us, my mother having just watched my vagina stretch like Brett Michaels' tour bus, and as I plot the closest place to send someone for take-out, I look before me to see that baby is still 'hooked up' to my waistline (or what was my waistline).

Oh, yeah. That.

"Just a couple of more pushes, Tara, and you're all done!"

"Bite me."

After all, I'm not saving it for the placenta...