I love this picture I took of my dad today on his 66th birthday.
We are burying Anna’s placenta today.
It will lie beneath a plum tree in our backyard, a few yards from the very spot where she was born.
I have been dreading this day. Which explains why I’ve put it off for 16 months.
The last tangible thing I have from the birth (except Anna, of course) is this placenta. It’s like I don’t want the time to pass; I don’t want to let it go. I want that birth to always be “just the other day” and Anna to be that baby who was just inside me. I want to go back and have that experience all over again.
All day I’ve been tearful, pushing myself through this unexpected and strange sense of grief. Again. While feeling like I’ve done this one hundred times already.
And I’m finding myself thinking how it’s a strange thing to grieve something whose sole purpose was to give life.
I have tremendous admiration and respect for that piece of meat that’s been in my freezer for 16 months. It’s a pretty amazing thing. And as much as I like to look at it sitting in my freezer, it’s time to let it go.
So now I will tend this plum tree with placenta and hopefully eat its fruit year after year. It will grow with Anna, outside the home in which she was born and raised.
I guess that’s something to be happy about.
No, I am not embarrassed to talk about it. Just how I was not embarrassed to share the news of my pregnancies, births, and even miscarriage. It’s just another piece of the wonder of womanhood, and I embrace it (most of the time).
I got my period back. I haven’t had a period since May of 2008. It’s been a long time, and I am glad to have it again.
This also explains my foul mood last night, as seen in my last post. PMS is sometimes only recognized in hindsight, I guess, especially when I haven’t had it in over 2 years.
I am officially “normal” again. I am no longer postpartum; my body has woken up from a long sleep and is telling me I can move on now. It is a good feeling and I am happy to finally be here: in a predictable and reliable life pattern.
I practice Ecological Breastfeeding with Anna, which is probably why I went so long without a period. This form of breastfeeding is nature’s way of birth control and managing child-spacing. Although another pregnancy would absolutely not be welcome right now (in my mind), I suppose my body thinks otherwise.
Despite my crazy dreams and being kicked by Anna a few times last night, I slept well and woke up feeling refreshed and 100 times better than I felt last night.
Welcome back, normal. And welcome back, period.
Most of the time, I post an entry here to imprint a moment or a day worth remembering. Something I want to look back on and get nostalgic over. Something that makes me feel like my life is pretty good.
After a lot of these posts, it starts to look like my life is only made up of these sorts of spectacular moments. It looks like I am this mother who does all sorts of great things for her kids and has a positive outlook and all kinds of patience.
But that, my friends, is not so.
Between the posts, there isn’t necessarily much worth remembering. Often times it seems there is more worth forgetting. Feelings of chaos and being completely overwhelmed, crying spells (me), crying spells (the kids), taking three hours to make, eat, and clean up from breakfast just in time for lunch, being so behind on laundry that my daughter has to wear dirty underwear.
Today is one of those days, even though yesterday was truly spectacular. Today I am depressed, feeling hopeless, suffocating, tired of being touched, tired of hearing noise, tired of being kicked in the face and headbutted in my sleep, tired of giving, feeling desperately fearful of ever having another child because who do I think I am kidding? How on earth could I handle even more noise, demands, touching, kicking, and mouths to feed?
And of course, this will pass like it always does. The gray clouds will move along and I will have my sunshine again. Tomorrow is a new day.
We canceled our reservation at restaurant Alma and our plans to buy a new set of knives (to replace to junky ones we got for our wedding) and instead opted for an extra week at the cabin and a kayak date.
Here’s to spontaneity and canceling and saving money, replaced by a sweet, simple date in in honor of our big day ten years ago.
Maybe next year we’ll have the big restaurant and knife-buying date.
Happy anniversary, Hub!