Demon and Savior

In my career as a birth doula, I have had the opportunity to encapsulate roughly 100 placentas.

It's a process I cherish and feel to my core. But, I decided that I should probably hire someone to encapsulate mine so that I would have one less stressor in the newborn haze. I sought out a sister doula and spoke with her about it but never got around to actually completing the contract. Something always distracted me, sleep, nesting, eating, reading, feeling like I still had plenty of time.

Like my second pregnancy, I had been having contractions at very regular intervals for several weeks but Friday, when I woke up feel like these were of a different variety, I told myself that I'd do it today.
But then Friday became Saturday and as we were driving to the hospital, I realized I still had not officially hired her.

Some how, I didn't find myself stressing about what could have been (which is rare since my head is always, always over thinking). I'm sure I could have called her Sunday morning and she would have come anyway. Instead, I birthed our baby girl and sent my placenta home with my mother to wait in her freezer for me to be ready.

As I opened the bucket tonight, I immediately felt the force of the anomaly of preparing my own placenta. I wondered if I would come to face my demon. See, this time HG (Hyperemesis Gravidarum) wasn't enough. I also developed a massive sub chorionic hemorrhage that because of it's size and location, had the potential to cause placenta abruption and early delivery. This giant blood clot became my demon, my battle to fight in defense of both myself and our unborn baby.

We had told the baby catcher we wanted to see the beast who's held me hostage the last 14 weeks. Sadly, he was unable to locate it at the time.

But there it sat. Right on top as I lifted my organ out of the bucket. I called my husband in to see it. We stood staring at it in my hand for a few moments together. He put his hand reassuringly on my back and grounded me in the way only he can. And then he left because BLOOD.

As I held my little demon in my hand, just half of it's original size, I was overcome by emotion. This little thing made our life hell. It scared us at 25 weeks and was nearly the cause of an emergency cesarean. It kept me in bed and made me unable to care for our Little Monsters for MONTHS. It is the cause of so many tears, feelings of inadequacy, and the stress of many who had to step in and take over my role.

How many of us can say we have literally held our demons in our hand? I got to curse at it and sob over it. I got to grieve for what could of been and then stare it down and declare my independence from it. It is no longer in control. I get to choose to let this moment heal me.

And then, I began to examine my placenta and begin my ritual. I am astounded at the size and density of it. Some how, despite the demon dwelling on it, it managed to remain healthy and strong and absolutely beautiful! Half me and half my husband, this is the savior of our beautiful baby girl we so gravely feared loosing for so long! It's strength is undeniable and stunning.

Part of my process is to pray over and thank the organ for it's work and the life it sustained. I try to infuse each one with love and strength for the woman who will use it's nutrients to restore her battle weary body (because pregnancy and birth are always a battle).
How am I, who sees so clearly all my flaws, faults, struggles, and damage, to speak  praise and love for the woman who grew this beautiful organ and baby? How am I to see good and beauty in my gestation when I've felt so broken in the process?

Self love has never been my strong suit but I stood over this savior and felt it's glow deep in my chest. It sustained and supported my sweet daughter who is fast asleep in our bed. It deserves to hear praise for that and for the work it has yet to do. It will help my body find its balance once more.

Tonight, I stand in awe of my demon, my baby's savior, and my body who grew both and gave me a most precious miracle.


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