(This is not a post for judgment. If thought of eating the placenta for medicinal reasons makes you sick, just pass by this post please).
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It started with the lentil soup. I looked into the bowl, the light orange swirls of legumes had bits and flecks of ham and mushroom and smoky black beans, and it was sprinkled with just enough salt and pepper. Truly a fine post partum soup for me and my princess, made with love by a friend. It was brought to me in thick hand-made bowl, swirls of blues and green and blacks and shaped like a small cauldron, a potter working out of a barn in Connecticut had crafted it just for me a few years back. I just stared at it, the bowl and the colors and the smells, the hyper-focus of my mind and my eyes sent me swimming somewhere else, far, far from my light flecked bedroom, walls the color of buttercream and soft silky fabric thrown over the window started closing in, eerie and almost Lynchian. The tears welled and I pushed the bowl away, looking up at the barer, staring into his eyes, they looked down at me in offering: I bring nourishment. But I felt nothing. Not an ounce of thanks or grace or contentment. Not anger or sadness. Just blankness, emptied like a vessel that was once full to the brim with anticipation and joy, of grateful waiting. The nothingness was pulled thick like suffocating wooliness over my body, then my throat and finally my head. Emptiness had become the heaviest, scratchiest of weights. And I began to sob.
I don’t want it. Just take it away. I push his hand hard and creamy lentils plopped over the edge of the bowl and onto the wood floor, a small bit splash onto the white down that kept me and Z warm. I rubbed it in with my finger and sob. Fuck.
You need to eat something {pause} and at the realization that I was sobbing: What’s wrong? What happened? Wifey? You okay?
My new daughter’s naked body wiggled next to me, her itty lips, small but full and stained the most edible color of ruby, opened like an O and she searched for my breast with her sense of smell and her tiny, skin-peeled hands. Her accuracy was precise and within moments she was latched and pulling with all her oral power. The milk let down a pressure release, and goodness and pleasure tried to knock on my soul’s door but it was no use, the lock had been turned and nothing was getting in. The sobs became storm-like, run-for-cover type of emotion, working my tender abdominal muscles too much and the pain traveled to the physical plane. It worked its way down to my tender and on-fire crotch then the throbbing moved back to my anus, which I don’t even want to talk about.
Just get the soup out. I can’t stand it.
But Keri just brou….
I thought of Keri and her tender body and gentle soul preparing the beans and slowly stirring a soup of protein and love for my family.
She made bread too…and you need some water…
OUT. PLEASE. OUT.
Bruised and confused my husband leaves and gently shuts the door. I am in shock. What was that all about? How could I feel like this when I am at the same time overcome with the largest most glorious love and gratitude for this new girl I am curled up against? For the man who surrounds me? For the friends who support me? Instead I just tasted the metal long overdue maintenance in my mouth
I was entering darkness. The underside. The shadow side. I knew this was happening the moment it took residence in my being. I couldn’t fight it. I needed to dive into it and take up space with the serpents and the dragons. I had to hold my black fists high in the air and become the Kali in me, because it was the destructive force that brought me to this point and the same force that was going to lead me through it. I have so many things to learn, and this depression was to be my Teacher. I couldn’t fight it more than I could fight the feelings I had during the birth.
This birth was hard. Hard as in the surface of granite, hard as in steel bending and muscle twisting and bone cracking. Each of us has our own personal mystery of how we meet up with birth; in a dark alley or a green meadow or an ocean of blue and a mix of them all along with The Ten Thousand other things. Whether we like it or not, it owns us, uses us, gifts us, shakes us up, swallows us, spits us out and cradles us. It forces us, hands tied behind our backs and our eyelids pulled up open with pins so there is nowhere else to look except within every dusty corner of ourselves; the places we obsess and all that we ignore, so that we might dive deep into our heart of self –realization. Birth is that present moment of reminder of who we have been and who we must surrender to become. It offers a challenge to our humanness; presenting to us the choice: faith or fear? Or both. It lets us build walls to slam ourselves against and gives us tools to opens tunnels to slides down. We can keep our births locked up and live with a demon, or open the cage and release it to the world and cross our fingers that the spirit emerges full of grace and healing, that it ascends with the white wings of a peaceful bird.
By day two post partum, I was beat, wrecked, the high from that perfectly beautiful and divine squishy little being flying out of me, half covered in her membranes, had begun to fade and I desperately grasped to keep it, holding the past tightly like a winning card and I wanted to feel the glory forever. I wanted that moment of her face buried in my chest and her eyes fluttering to look at me to be all the moments of my life.
My bones now were holding up flesh that carried the spirit of failure and guilt and shame; I had let down myself, my spouse, and my children in every way and corner of our lives, just by mere presence alone. This was how I felt. This was the heaviness that I was becoming.
I spent 9 months allowing myself to prepare for the mystery of birth, loosening any control I had of it, practicing unattachment to any outcome or result, but in he end, I was attached. I had done enough birthwork to prepare myself for transfers and interventions because of dangerous health related reasons, but I never prepared myself for pain that I couldn’t handle, I never prepared myself to rage like Kali herself in a storm of black pellets of rain. And I wallowed and cried and tossed and turned in my internal bed of discomfort and felt sorry for myself. But I knew I had an out, because not once did I stop sucking in small areas of Zadie’s skin with all over body kisses and intoxicating myself with the scent of her brow-line, a mixture of my insides and her new being. I never once put her down and turned my back on her beauty. I never once turned my back on the beauty of even these dark moments. Something not so nice was there and my inner wise woman knew it needed to be felt. This was how I was to process her birth. But it hurt, and I didn’t like it. I also knew that in no way could I keep the pain as mine. I knew then things would turn into real Post Partum Depression, and that is something I did not need, it wouldn’t serve me or my family. These moments and first days I could handle, but not months of it. I knew that soon I would need a remedy to jump start the sunny side. My remedy was to be the placenta.
By the end of Day Two of my daughter’s life, my friend had steamed our placenta. Its blue veins sprouted like the braches from the Tree of Life. Its cord spiraled out in extension, like a root reaching out for the heart of the earth in exchange of life support. It was full and round; quite perfectly beautiful if you are into that kind of thing. It was steamed with lime, ginger and a pepper. Then it was baked for 10 hours on my oven’s lowest setting. The house smelled of blood, yet with a strange and eerie essence of life. It smelled much better than a steak cooking and certainly more intriguing than a chicken roasting. When it was done B. and I sat down with the old stone mortar and pestle my mother gave me years ago, passed down from my Grandmother Mary and we ground each piece until it was powder. That alone was body intensive, not an easy material to transform into a fine dust and because we wanted to keep it pure, we opted out of using our coffee grinder (not sure how coffee would pass with a faint taste of dried blood). We encapsulated most of it on Day Three of my daughter’s life. I was told to take 2 pills, 3 times a day, with some white wine so the properties would release into the blood. I Couldn’t argue the wine, seeing I had two wonderful bottles Chardonnay’s waiting for me in the fridge. I figured it couldn’t hurt being tipsy while I waited for this aching soul to heal. I half a glass with each placenta serving. B. ate a whole piece we set aside before dehydrating and after streaming. We sat down together and ingested what is energetically, one of the most powerful substances we have ever felt. My body shivered as I handled the pills. His whole body melted into the floor as he chewed the steamed organ. We were eating my daughter’s first angel, her first means of survival, her first friend. I immediately felt like I was doing the best thing for me body, for my family. Eating this would accelerate much needed healing.
By that night, after 4 capsules, I began feeling much better (and I don’t think it was the wine). By the next afternoon, 4 capsules later I was kicking up my heels to Johnny Cash and The White Stripes with the girls, holding our usual Dance Party USA in mid-afternoon while wearing Z close to my chest in her super soft moby wrap. My bleeding began to subside. My aching became bearable and altogether typical. And the black cloud, smoky and invasive, volcanic yet dulling, disappeared. Poof. I saw such light. And in the darkness I felt for those first few days, I learned about myself, what gifts this birth brought me, and how through pain I was reminded of my undying faith.
Day Eight of my daughters life and I am still taking the capsules 3 times a day (though I let up on the wine a bit, just a bit and am back on espresso). Perhaps it is merely Time that allowed the grips of post-partum darkness loosen from my neck, not the placenta, but there is something otherworldly and magical about the preparation and the on-going ingestion of the placenta in the pill form. The blood alone is magic, potent and sacred. At one point some of the dust from grinding it down got on our counter. I used my bare hand to wipe it up. I held my hand over my heart and felt it tingle and melt, open and release. At that moment Zadie, who’d been lying on the couch began to cry. I rushed over to her and held her, used my hand as a wand over her body and let some of the loose dust stick to her bare chest. A sense of peace washed over her, floated like a cloud above her. She smiled and nestled into my arms in a deep sleep. Her aura is the color of Indigo and her heart beams out eye squinting white.
There are many reasons listed for eating the placenta. Though our culture sees this as barbaric, in Chinese Medicine, the placenta is known as a Great Life Force and is highly regarded as being medicinal and healing. In Chinese medicine it is said drying it and eating it is much more beneficial than raw or simply cooking it. To dry a placenta you would simply dehydrate it in the oven, then using a mortar and pestle grind it up. From there you can mix it with food or ingest it within capsules. We steamed the placenta with half of a lime, some slices of hot pepper and chunks of fresh ginger until it was thoroughly cooked, about 30 minutes. It was then sliced up, like you’d slice up any meat, and placed on a cookie sheet. We slow cooked it in the oven on the lowest setting for about 9-10 hours until it was totally dried up, but not burned. Then we began the grinding of it by hand. Because it’s such a pure substance, we opted out of using any electrical devise for this part of the preparation, as to not bring in other energy into it. This part is laborious and takes a while, but is worth it in the end. Then we filled empty gel caps full of the powder. We have enough pills for me until I feel done with them, as well as pills for Zadie. Placenta pills have a very long shelf life, so when Z goes through any type of challenging transitions, she can also ingest this amazing remedy in hopes to help her along on her journey as well.
The following information was taken from Mothering.com regarding Placentophagia, 11/7/07:
What is Placentophagia?
Placentophagia (or placentaphagia) is the practice of consuming the placenta. Many mammals naturally eat the placenta soon after birth and it is also practiced in some traditional cultures. Preparations vary, including eating raw slivers, recipes such as lasagna, soups, stews etc., or medicinal pills and concoctions. The placenta can be eaten by the mother and/or saved for the child (after introduction of solids). The most beneficial times for the mother are shortly after childbirth or during times of tiredness or energy deficiency. For the child perhaps at times of energy deficiency or perhaps consider before the 7 & 8 year cycles of growth (7, 14 etc for girls, 8, 16 etc. for boys).
Why Eat Placenta?
There are many benefits to eating placenta and although it is not well documented in Western society, it is has been used as a medicine in China for many years. In fact, the placenta is quite sought after, being included in pharmacological preparations to treat infertility, chronic fatigue syndrome and a variety of other diseases. Placenta is bought from young, healthy women then tested and treated accordingly. Why let this valuable organ go to waste?
Benefits of Placenta Pills
Augments Qi (energy) and Xue (Blood) and therefore tonifies Yang, Yin and Jing (Vital Essence).
Brief Explanation:
All foods have properties that can benefit the body, depending on the body type and other factors. Placenta is considered to be a very powerful medicine as it is life giving and stores the vital essence for the baby. Placenta is often included in traditional medicinal combinations with restorative functions.
Generally we cannot directly tonify the vital essence as it is over a process of years that this is built up. Firstly there is the Qi that comes from what we consume. Some of this Qi is then turned into Xue (Blood) after digestion and stored in the Liver. If the body is producing enough Blood (via good health practices) it is then transported from the Liver to the Kidneys and Marrow (in TCM the Kidneys control the Bone Marrow) and becomes Jing. There are two types of Jing: pre-natal and post-natal. Pre-natal Jing is the reason why pre-natal care is so important for future health. It comes from the sperm and ova during conception and cannot be replenished. Post-natal Jing can be replenished but it takes many years. Pregnancy is taxing on the body and can drain Qi, Xue and Jing (in that order) even if the mother follows the best of health regimes.
More specifically, placenta pills may help to:
Increase general energy
Allow a quicker return to health after birth
Increase production of breast milk
Decrease likelihood of baby blues and post natal depression
Decrease likelihood of iron deficiency
Decrease likelihood of insomnia or sleep disorders
The body is so individual and because of the powerful nature of this medicine other benefits are also likely but too numerous to mention.
This practice is particularly beneficial to vegetarian mothers and those prone to post natal depression.
Other Considerations
Placentophagia can not be practiced after a lotus birth (allowing the placenta and umbilical cord to detach naturally) as the placenta needs to be treated during the lotus birth process and is no longer able to be consumed. Other traditions can still be practiced, such as creating placenta art and the left over membranes can be buried. If one wishes to make an umbilical cord bracelet (or some other use) this can be removed before cooking and dried accordingly. It is best to check with your midwife or health care professional to be sure that your placenta is healthy and able to be eaten. It may be best to just ask if it is healthy, depending on your relationship with your caregiver.
Placenta Pills Recipe
Ingredients:
One fresh/defrosted human placenta
Ginger slices
Half a lemon
One red chilli (hot pepper)
Empty vegetable based capsules
First wash the blood away from the placenta and place in a steamer. Cut up the other fresh ingredients and place on the top.
Next steam over a low heat with the other fresh ingredients for 30 minutes, turning after 15 minutes.
* with a fork to be sure that no blood or fluid comes out to check if it is done. The placenta will shrink during this process.
Slice the placenta as thinly as possible and place on a baking tray.
Dry in a low-temp oven or use a dehydrator. Then powder or just break it up and put it into the empty capsules.
Store in a dark container at room temperature.
TCM Principles
Properties
Flavour is sweet and salty. Nature is warm and moist.
Functions
Augments Qi (energy) and Xue (blood) and therefore tonifies Yang, Yin and Jing (vital essence). Placenta is often included in traditional medicinal combinations with restorative functions. Mainly used after childbirth but also can be used after high stress or an extremely draining experience.
Benefits
By augmenting the production of Qi (vital energy) and Xue (blood) this allows for increased energy, increased breastmilk and less risk of Xue Xu (blood deficiency) which can cause depression. It can be used preventively. In combination with other herbs placentas have been used to treat infertility and cancer. When consumed directly after childbirth it helps to contract the uterus.
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Zadie’s One Week Party
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