My son Tristan turns 30 this October. (I can’t believe he’s already that old. That makes me… older!) He’s finally ready to have kids (still needs the female part of the equation, however, so it’ll be awhile), so we’ve been talking about different aspects of his childhood and what he’s hoping for when it comes to being a father. It’s a delightful time with my baby boy.
He called the other night to tell me he went to an art show where many women attended and the topic of birth came up, so he mentioned his mom was a midwife, the women circling around and they began asking questions.
“What happens to the umbilical cord? Does it just suck back up into the baby?”
“How does a woman have a home birth without an epidural?”
And then there was the “What does your mom do with the placenta?”
Tristan laughed and told them we always had placentas in our freezer. “Watch out for the placenta! Make sure it goes back in the back when you get the popsicle out.” He told them he remembered women bringing me their placentas; I used them in childbirth classes to show the miraculousness of the organ and also demonstrate the uniqueness of each one. (We didn’t encapsulate them back then.) He said it was years before he realized an Igloo (a cooler) was used for something other than transporting placentas. The funniest part of that conversation was when he told them he was in his mid-twenties before he knew most people didn’t have a placenta in their freezer. I told him I could certainly get him one for his if he wanted one. He declined.
These talks with my kids are so awesome. They were always delightful as kids, but as adults, they are amazing. I love my babies. Can you tell?