I told my husband that I was going out that evening after the baby was asleep.
"Friend date?" he asked. I nodded. "What are y'all going to do?"
"I'm going to watch her steam and dehydrate a placenta. To see if I...yknow. Can do it."
"Oh," he said. "But...The Chicken..."
Let me explain.
My great-grandmother started making our family's chicken stew eight or nine decades ago and my family has eaten it on Christmas Eve ever since, always served with garlic bread, always delicious. And when I moved to Atlanta and in with my husband and his son, I became the one to host Christmas in our home, and so it was my responsibility to prepare the stew.
The only problem is this: The Chicken. I can't stand the job of picking the chicken off the carcass, spending an hour at the kitchen counter scrunching up my face and dancing around, grossed out. I couldn't bear to eat the stew that night after that ordeal, in fact, so I learned that first year that I needed to make the stew on December 23 to have a stomach for it by Christmas Eve. It is a well-known fact in our family that I do not deal well with bones or viscera in my meals, and it is a far less well-known fact that my husband has been known to shield me from a lot of this kind of thing if he can help it. It's comical, really, my aversion to handling organs considering that I love to cook.
So, when my husband said, "But...The Chicken..." he had a point. I knew it was possible that I would get to my dear friend's home, begin to watch her lovingly handle a newly postpartum client's placenta, and decide I just could not even and have to come up with a new plan. I mean...after, all, The Chicken. But, as I observed the process, I found myself completely absorbed and in no way uncomfortable or squeamish. In fact, I was fascinated. This experience confirmed what I had already suspected: that I want to offer placenta encapsulation services to my clients.
A short time later and I am nearing the end of my certification to become a Placenta Encapsulation Specialist! Stay tuned for updates.