Well, it’s not like the hospital or office or whatever wants 'em. If they can convince YOU to take them off your hands, they save the cost of disposing of them. Which is, like, probably about ten cents in this case, but still.
I asked for my wife’s gallstones when she had her gall bladder removed.
But the most disturbing thing I have experienced was the couples in our birthing class who were discussing what they were going to do with the placenta after their child was born.
I had my one and only wisdom tooth yanked out a few years ago, and the dentist gave it back to me in a little plastic treasure-chest shaped box. It’s pretty gruesome, a big old tooth in a box, but I don’t want to throw it out.
After my uncle was born, my mom took and hid the umbilical cord. I forget how long she kept it: a couple of months, at least, maybe a year. Eventually, the dog ate it.
I got my wisdom teeth back too, but in a little plastic envelope type thing. (Boscibo, I am jealous of your plastic treasure chest.)
The nurse asked if I wanted them and I thought I said no, but apparently with all the drugs I was on, it came out something like “hot damn I do, just plop those suckers right on my chest.” 'Cause that’s what she did.
I think it’s kind of creepy to keep stuff like that. Gaffer, what do people do with the placenta? Wait, never mind. I just don’t want to know.
One of my aunts told me to keep my newborn’s umbilical scab after if fell off, then take it outside and burn it for good luck.
Ummmmm…no.
But, my mother did keep her gallstones. There were two and they were oddly identical looking. Much like two small sesame-seed balls or something.
She joked that she was going to have them shellacked and made into earrings.
My cat ate an unknown object that got stuck in his intestines. $1,100 later it was removed. The vet showed it to me so that I could attempt to identify what he ate. It was unidentifiable, but I kept my cat’s $1,100 snack.
My mum kept my freakin’ dessicated foreskin pressed into a photo album with my baby pictures, until I indignantly threw it out when I was a teenager.
I’m sure that number of times I heard her point it out to blanching visitors, (taking care to point out how remarkably small it was, of course,) would provide fodder for years of therapy, if I could afford it.
Trust me. You don’t want to know about placenta stew, even if Cecil wrote it.
Somewhere, I’ve got three of my wisdom teeth. Not sure, but think my mother may have her gallstone in roughly the same plae she has the kids’ baby teeth.
I wanted the placenta when my daughter was born - I was going to plant a rosebush on top of it. The birth center wouldn’t give it to me, saying it was considered biohazardous waste, and had to be appropriately disposed of.