Yup. I am.
I realize this officially makes me a Radical Mama. I am using the word radical instead of weird, because I honestly don’t consider myself weird. Different yes, but not weird. I love me some Pottery Barn and Banana Republic, I am a conservative Catholic (except for a few things, like gay marriage, which I fully, 100% support and I think its wrong, wrong, wrong that we don’t extend equal rights to everyone), I drive an SUV and live in a neighborhood that looks like it came out of the Truman Show, complete with white picket fences. So in some areas, I am pretty traditional and American, but increasingly, in other areas, I am about as radical as it gets.
I have always been a bit different, going along my own path, but when Penelope arrived, things have gotten more radical in nature, because I care so much about her, her physical and emotional health and the condition I leave this earth in for her grand babies.
If you have been reading this blog, and have stuck around, you know that I am kind of different.
I make chicken stock from scratch, I cloth diaper and do elimination communication, I don’t vaccinate Penelope at all, I will breastfeed for as long as Penelope wants, even if that means she still nursing when she is 5. Yes, 5. I want to home-school or send Penelope to a school like Grass Roots or Montessori, I practice attachment parenting and co-sleeping, yoga is a huge part of my life and Penelope’s. I am a home birth advocate and aspiring Midwife, I like to make things myself and I am as environmentally responsible as I can be by doing things like gardening and using cloth toilet paper. But even with all of that, I feel like I can still wear some pearls and authentically fit in with most of the women in the Junior League and in my neighborhood.
But oh, eating my placenta might change that! I feel like eating my placenta is a huge milestone! Yoga, eating organic and even cloth diapering are pretty socially acceptable these days…but eating your placenta!? That’s crossing the line! I might forever be known as, the-lady-who-ate-her-placenta, but I don’t give a shit. The nutritional and healing benefits far outweigh any gossip and discrimination that might come my way.
My original plan for my placenta was to bury it and plant a tree on top of it. But we never did it, because I couldn’t bear to plant it in our current backyard with a impending move to Chile (which is not happening anymore), so I kept it frozen, planning to just plant it eventually.
But then last week, I had a few minutes to myself and opened up my Google Reader to the hundreds of unread blog posts, that I never have time to read and quickly grazed the list and clicked on this post.
It was almost like a switch got flipped in my brain,after reading it and I realized, “duh!! I should eat it!!”
And just in case, I am ostracized for eating my placenta, I convinced my two best mama-friends to eat theirs with me. We are going to one awesome dinner party. A PLACENTA dinner party!
Stay tuned folks, its only going to get crazier!