I’m always a day late and a dollar short, so it comes as no surprise to me, but disappointing none-the-less, that I’ve missed out on yet another major life experience. If only I’d had my children a few years later, I too could be the proud owner of a sweet little Placenta Teddy, or two.
To know now, 6 years and 3 months too late, that I could have saved, dried, cut, sewn, and kept my placenta as a little teddy bear to be saved and cherished by my family forever is just a slap in the face. How will my daughter, and future son-in-law, ever forgive me that I don’t have this lovely thing to pass on to them when I die. My son is almost 10 years old. How am I to answer his questions about why doesn’t HE have HIS Placenta Teddy like all of his friends. This is clearly going to be the next craze, right up there with Silly Bandz and Justin Bieber t-shirts. I’m a failure.
There will be no friend/family dinners where in the midst of a lull in conversation I can pull out the Placenta Teddy to pass around the table for all to admire. The shame.