I don't think Petra remembered her placenta, but she seemed to like its shallow grave among the sagebrush.

She stood on the mound of fresh dirt, looking east toward the rising sun, a faint smile creeping into the corners of her little mouth. "Is the rest of my childhood going to be this weird?" the smile hinted. "What am I doing here?"

If only she had had more words.

The afterbirth sat in our freezer for nearly 18 months. We didn't know what to do with it in San Francisco, where Petra was born. There are always people watching when you are trying to bury an organ in the city.

But in Boise it's no problem to head into the hills, a double-bagged organ in tote.--read more >>