Pure Placental (and Parental) Praise
Well, it finally happened. I took the last of my placenta capsules today from your placenta. The capsules signified the growth of you - our second cherub - and the sheer amazingness of the human, female body. I grew you, and I grew her. Life itself is unimaginable and seeing your placenta every day in her glass jar and downing one capsule each (or every other) morning raised pure pride in myself and was a powerful reminder of what I accomplished in birthing you.
Luckily, every time I look at you I’m reminded of that day. I don’t need the pills, but having them just made me the experience feel more integrated and intentional. I wonder if I’ll notice a change from not having them, or if my body and mind are now at a place of not needing them (not that I ever did, per se, but it was nice to replenish with a powerhouse from within).
I can’t wait for you to know the power she holds. She is a wonder all to herself and you hold the power to create life and one of her with each babe within you. There is nothing cooler.
I’ve been thinking a lot this week about those who choose to not have kids or unfortunately don’t get to experience growing a child when they wish to. I was almost one of those people (the former), until your dad and I fatefully joined forces. I look at teenagers driving cars, people working at coffee shops solo, and women grocery shopping without a party of one, two, or three in tow and realize just how life is split in two. As parents, you really are reborn when you have kids.
Parenthood is like joining a cult…but a good one. We give parents and grandparents, friends and well-meaning acquaintances a bad rap for hustling people to settle down and start a family, when I think their true intention is to witness their loved ones experiencing the same glorious and challenging life as they raise their littles that they had raising theirs. It’s a tough game and a hard contract when you become a parent, but damn if it isn’t worth every minute. I wish you and your sister the same in whatever shape it comes to you.
In my eyes, the true intention of parenthood (in a spiritual sense) is to help us grow. That seems simple, but it’s so much bigger than it sounds. The more I parent the more I realize adults are just big babies, given the chance at a new life and a unique opportunity to grow from a place of having a life’s worth of experience already. If we allow it, we can graciously accept the challenge of raising children while raising ourselves to be better, more compassionate, intentional, patient, and loving beings.
In my experience thus far, parenthood has made me relive the life of my inner child. All her unmet needs, desires, and limiting stories have and are coming out, and she is forced to relive them through you and your sister. It’s been a blessing because I never realized just how much attention she needs. I’ve also come to realize that I don’t think we’re meant to expect or experience “perfect” childhoods. We are born into the perfect families for us - with parents who are meant to throw obstacles to learning and loving in ways our soul was craving coming into this world - that are meant to give us the experiences we can use to experience life on earth in a specific way. As an extension to that, one could say we’re destined to open ourselves up to the core of who we are from those experiences, shed light on them, and learn from them through the experience of having children ourselves. In doing so, we become better people and we teach our children how to do the same. It’s not about making our kids the best people they can be - that’s on them, too. It’s about giving them the tools they need to be successful at their soul’s life plan.
This may not make sense to you now, nor should it. I just wanted to plant the seed in case you’re ever questioning becoming a parent one day, wondering if it would be worth it. It will. Trust me.
