While in the hospital, a friend visited and told CS and me that if we decided to keep the umbilical cord, to let her know because she has some “special box” for saving it. I politely told her, “Okaaay,” but was thinking, “Ew! Why would I want to save it? It wasn’t connected to me, but to the placenta. Why save it?” And as I’ve been cleaning it, I haven’t wavered from that line of thought. But then it fell off, and it fell off while I was having alone time in the wee hours of the morning with Sun, a time when the rest of the city slept. It was special.

And I haven’t been able to throw the dang thing away. I know, it’s gross. I mean, I may as well save her soiled diapers or her first scab (as Mamma Loves pointed out). And I totally agree with Mamma! I don’t even like to touch it–I’ve already but it in her keepsake box just to get it put away. But somehow I want to capture, save and categorize everything about Sun. I am a researcher and historian by nature, but not a saver of weird stuff. So this is odd behavior for me. Maybe it’s because of the struggle we had in getting pregnant and maintaining the pregnancy; maybe it’s because I was the fifth child whose own baby book was all but blank; maybe it’s because I don’t expect to have another child. I really don’t know.

But save it I did, and save it I shall. I figure if it grosses Sun out, she can throw it away herself when she is grown. Maybe I should hot glue it into her baby book just in case.