A few minutes after my baby boy entered the world, I felt another contraction coming on, weaker than the rest. It felt like a dry heave and like it was second nature, I gave a quick push. The placenta came flying out like a vaginal sneeze. I hope you weren’t just eating dinner while you read that last line. Don’t worry, I had the same reaction. The doctor held it up and I exclaimed, “Ugh, that’s attractive!” To this day, I still don’t know why I said that. My husband still makes fun of me for it because he claims the doctor looked a little taken aback. I maintain that I can’t be held responsible for anything I say during childbirth. After all, I also yelled “I’m pooping!” to which the nurse responded with something to the effect of, “That’s not poop, it’s the baby’s head.” I feel like I owe the little guy an apology.
All jokes aside, the third stage of labor is often forgotten. It is an afterthought, never mentioned on TV or in movies unless there is a complication (such as when the placenta does not detach like it is supposed to). Sometimes referred to as the afterbirth, the placenta is the perfect genetic counterpart to the baby, life support for the whole nine months in the womb. The placenta and the baby come from the same initial group of cells after conception. Perhaps this is why some traditions refer to the placenta as a twin. There is a lot of folk lore associated with the placenta, and to this day, there are many different cultural traditions. Some people even eat the placenta. (Again, I’m sorry if you are eating dinner right now.) Most of the time, the hospital discards it.
After the placenta comes out, contractions continue, but they are very small. Their purpose is to shrink the uterus to the original size, and they intensify a little bit during breastfeeding. Usually an over the counter pain reliever is all that is needed to bring relief.