Even I’m grossed out

Recently, one of my oldest bestest friends had a baby. I’m thrilled. I’m beyond thrilled. It’s like the BEST THING EVER, because now, finally, I can hear my friend’s take on all the various viscerally vile aspects of motherhood. I might be funny about stuff like that, but she’s infinitely funnier. This is the woman who called to tell me she had lost her mucous plug by saying, “My vagina sneezed.”

I got a note from her: placenta encapsulation.

Placenta encapsulation?

They take your placenta and turn it into vitamin pills. Evidently there is a self-regulating industrial group because, I hear, it’s important to hire a certified placenta encapsulation specialist.

I know most (other) animals eat their afterbirth. I know that some people do it as well. I know some people who have done it. Personally, I would have planted it under a tree, but I don’t even want to know what the hospital did with mine.

But turning it into an encapsulated medicine? I’m not even linking to this but you can look it up.

Thank heavens they’re not touting it as a cancer cure.

Yet.