Birth of Jobe Atene Hess, Part 5 - final: We bury the placenta and umbilical cord

It was Sunday, February 14, and Margie had gotten up earlier than me, in part because I had been up until the wee hours working in this blog and in part because she needed to buy certain food items to prepare for the gathering that we had planned for early afternoon.

Finally, I got up, about 9 - 9:30 AM and, before I started to microwave my oatmeal, walnuts and frozen berries, staggered out here into my office to see what had happened on my computer after I had left it a few minutes before 4:00 AM.

I was surprised to find these tulips on my worktable, along with these five little dark chocolate hearts.

Margie had bought them for me while she was out shopping.

Not only was it Valentine's Day, but it was our anniversary.

In theory, it was our 36th Anniversary - but I know that this cannot actually be true, since I can not possibly be much older than 40.

It was an exceptionally nice thing to find sitting on my table, surrounded by fish, with a map of Alaska above.

When we had left Jacob and Lavina's house Saturday night, they were uncertain as to what time they would arrive at our house to bury the placenta and to eat frybread and beans, but they thought it would be fairly early, because they were certain that certain little people would not let them sleep late, no matter how tired they were.

Margie had started soaking the pinto beans the day before. Now, at a fairly early hour, she began to cook them. After that, she mixed up the ingrediants for the frybread.

But nobody showed up. Hours passed.

About 3:00 pm, I sent a text message, asking Jacob and Lavina if they were still coming.

Jacob called back to tell me their car wouldn't start. The battery was dead. Melanie was on her way over. She would give them a jump and then they would come.

About half-an-hour later, I received a text message from Lavina. If Caleb was awake, she wondered if I could have him go outside and shovel the snow down to the ground, right next to the spot where we had buried Kalib's placenta.

Caleb was asleep and I did not want to wake him. I told her I would do it myself.

"Don't hurt yr shoulder" she texted back.

I wasn't worried. I went out and cleared the snow away.

I didn't want to swing a pickax, though, or try to thrust a shovel into the frozen ground.

It was well after 4:00 when they arrived. I feared the ceremony would not take place until after dark.

Charlie and Melanie arrived about the same time, so Charlie came out to help.

It has been such a warm winter that the frost was only about one foot deep. Even so, our ground is hard to dig in, even when there's no frost at all. It was hard work and it took time.

Whenever one would tire, the other was there to spell him.

When the hole was dug to the same depth that the little shovel that Jacob holds is long, about three feet, Melanie came out to sample the dirt. That's part of what she does at work - test dirt and soil from construction sites all over the state.

She told Jacob that she was impressed to see him work so hard. "Usually, you stand around and watch other people work," she teased.

There was truth to the statement, because that is part of what a civil engineer does - goes and watches over the work of others to make certain everything is up to code and that they do not get shoddy.

I have seen Jacob at work in the field. He is very serious about it.

Even though it was another horribly warm day, warmth is always relative. Before the ceremony, I wanted to take a picture in the house, but I knew that if I took my cold cameras inside with nothing to protect them, they would fog up.

So I stood on the back porch to shoot a couple of images through the open door. As you can see, after about two seconds, my lens began to fog up anyway, so I had to stop.

Now it was getting darker - darker than it looks in the picture, but if I let it the picture look as dark as it actually was, readers would find it to be very annoying.

As I stated in an earlier post, it is against Navajo spiritual beliefs to discard the placenta and umbilical cord as waste. These have been the living instrument from which life has been transferred from the mother to the baby and as such are sacred and must be put away with respect, so we set out to do so, according to Lavina's instructions, just as we had done with Kalib's. Navajo belief also says that the mother cannot be present for the burial of the placenta, so Lavina had to stay inside the house.

I will share the essence of what Jacob said as he spoke and in his way offered a prayer. In part, this ceremony is meant to forever tie the baby to the land where the placenta and umbilical cord is buried. Jacob said that the thought of Jobe and Kalib having a strong tie to this place pleased him, because he had grown up here and it had been good.

He had been loved and cherished and it would be good for his sons always to be able to come here and to feel that same tie, that love and care.

We live on such a ragged financial edge that I am forever wondering how long we can hang onto this house. In fact, Margie and I have been thinking about having a realator come and take a look at it sometime after the snow melts and the ground dries, to see if maybe we could sell it for enough to pay off our debts and then get us a tiny hut somewhere where I could just sit and write.

How can I do that now?

And with all those animals buried further back towards the boundary of our property?

After Jacob finished speaking, the placenta was passed to each of us who stood there and all of us said something. We ended with Caleb, who we got out bed at the last moment.

It was quite dark by now. I had my ISO cranked up to 6400 and my shutter speed down to 1/4 of a second.

My eyes could make out everybody's shape and basic features but not much more.

And then we buried the umbilical cord and the placenta through which Lavina had nourished Jobe. We each took our turns, filling the hole first by hand and then by shovel.

Yes, it reminded me of all those times that I have done the same at a graveside.

Yet, this was a happy time. This also brought solemnity to it. It reminded us too of life's ultimate destination.

We then went into the house and ate our frybread and beans. Some of us made Navajo/Apache tacos, some ate the beans from the bowl as soup, with frybread on the side.

Either way, it was excellent - although the frybread was a little harder than normal, because Margie had started the dough so early.

Then we all just visited - and we enjoyed the little baby that had been nourished and strengthened through that flesh that we had just buried.

This is he: Jobe Atene Hess. Half Navajo, one-quarter Apache, one quarter the Euro-mix that is me.

And he has relatives on the other side of the world - Indians. India Indians. Hindu.

We are all family.

This is the nature of our world these days.

Here he is, held by his loving mother.

And here is Charlie, holding the ailing Royce. 

When it came time to feed the fish, Kalib and Gracie charged to my office. My screen-saver slide show feature is attached to a folder full of photos of the original cats. Sometimes, Kalib can sit in my chair for a long time and just watch those cat pictures drift across the screen.

Now he shouts to Gracie, to point out the magic of what is going on. 

The cat on screen is The Whole Kitten, Kaboodle - our original cat, the one who started it all, the one that Lisa would not let me cook for lunch, the one who taught me that I did not really despise cats but that I actually loved and admired them.

Gracie watches as Kalib feeds the fish.

A bit later, I heard some commotion in the back, coming from the room where Jacob, Lavina and Kalib had lived during the year-and-a-half that they spent with us.

I went back and found this - not good for mattresses, but good for a little boy and girl. That is what matters.

Not long afterward, a mad game of "Run Up and Down the Hall 200 Times" broke out. I will highlight this game in a later post.

Then they bundled up little Jobe, secured him in a car seat and left.

Ceremony of baby's first poop

In my Monday post, I wrote about how Melanie had gotten an important picture that I had missed. I told how, not long after Jobe had been born, I saw and heard Jacob and Lavina check with great interest to see whether or not he had pooped for the first time.

I thought they just wanted to be certain he was functioning as he should. Then later, as Margie and I neared their house where we were desperate to lie down and nap after being awake for over 30 hours, my iPhone rang and I handed it to Margie so that I would not crash. I heard her say to Jacob, still at the hospital, "there's poop on your face?"

Again, I misunderstood for a bit and thought that some kind of weird mishap had happened.

So I missed this picture.

This also is a Navajo tradition, although nobody thought of it when Kalib was born so he missed it. Before anyone gets too horrified, remember that a baby's first poop is clean. It does not stink.

The mother and father apply some of the first poop to their faces. This causes the dark spots under the eyes to leave earlier and helps to guarantee a smooth complexion.

I feel badly about missing it, but I am glad that Melanie was there to capture it on her iPhone. She later emailed this image to me.

Although she chose to develop and pursure other, more intellectual and academic talents, Melanie was born with a photographic gift.

You might suspect that it came from me, but I must tell you that her natural, raw, talent is superior to mine. Mine is more developed and practiced, but her's is superior.

All this got Margie and I to wondering. What were the Apache baby traditions that we overlooked when our children were born? Why didn't anyone tell us? Why didn't we think to ask?

I think it probably has a lot to do with the fact that we were still going to church at that time, making certain that we did everything for the babies that the church mandated we do. The church didn't know anything about Apache ways and it didn't care. It was greatly interested in Apaches, but that interest was to baptize, indoctrinate and assimilate - not to learn from.

Yes, we went to all the Apache Sunrise Dance ceremonies that we could, but we didn't ask what we should do for our babies in the Apache way.

It never occurred to us to ask.

I feel kind of bad about that, now.

Comments

[emilypeacock]

Thank you again for the pictures. I remember reading about this ceremony of burying the placenta and umbilical cord, but this is the first time I have seen pictures. What a wonderful affirmation of not only belonging to a particular place, but of belonging to this beautiful Earth we inhabit.

I have to laugh - I have two sibling cats who are a bit over two years old. Their names are Kit and Caboodle. GMTA

[WhiteStone]

I checked your weather and you are indeed warm up there! While that kind of weather would be welcome here, I can see that it is unusual for Wasilla.

Baby Jobe is precious. As are the rest of his family. Thank you for the insight into a tiny part of Navaho culture. And tell Margie I wish I could help eat some of those tacos!

Bless you.

[Grandma Nancy]

Thank you. Blessings.

[curiouser]

Your blog is a complete joy! Thank you for sharing your beautiful family. Blessings to all of you.

[kalaluka]

mahalo a nui for sharing.

[Tanyalaska]

Quyana for sharing these beautiful traditions and your beautiful family! It brightens my day to read and see and share in your family!

[Rocksee]

I am three days behind.. and I am so glad I have caught up with my favorite Wasillans..

I feel much better now!

Beautiful pics.. as usual. What a great ceremony!

[Ruth Z Deming]

You've charmed me once again. 36 years of marriage! And still going strong. Let's put on some music and dance.

[dahli22]

i'm not ok with the missionaries going to haiti to convert people from their beliefs. How is it possible missionaries are stilll going to places believing their worldview is superior? when they do that, we lose wisdom from other cultures.

anyway, fantastic post.

[Dustinn]

Hi Bill,

This blog was very touching. Thanks!

[Wasilla, Alaska, by 300]

Yes, it is outrageously warm.

Again - all, thanks for your encouraging comments.

I would address them one by one the way I like to but, my goodness, all I want to do now is to go to bed. Once I do, I will probably lay awake half the night.