If you want to know why someone would choose to consume the placenta, here is a post by one such woman.
Before you click, first this disclaimer, from the post:
(This is not a post for judgment. If thought of eating the placenta for medicinal reasons makes you sick, just pass by this post please).
So, as my mother would always say, “If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all.” If you think it’s gross or disgusting (or, ahem, Dr. Amy, “fetishizing the placenta”), and you just have to say something, you can leave such comments here, not there.
The tears welled and I pushed the bowl away, looking up at the bearer, staring into his eyes, they looked down at me in offering: I bring nourishment. But I felt nothing. Not an ounce of thanks or grace or contentment. Not anger or sadness. Just blankness, emptied like a vessel that was once full to the brim with anticipation and joy, of grateful waiting. The nothingness was pulled thick like suffocating wooliness over my body, then my throat and finally my head. Emptiness had become the heaviest, scratchiest of weights. And I began to sob.
I’ve never experienced this — the only time I was sad or cried after birth was barely enough to be called “baby blues”, and was always or usually in response to (or at least augmented by) a lack of sleep, except perhaps for what might make anyone cry, such as the death of a loved one. Since I don’t seem to have a problem in this way, and I’m a bit squeamish, I haven’t been tempted to consume the placenta; but I can see that it could be a great benefit to many women. I got this link from a facebook friend of mine, and she said that the person she knows locally who dries and encapsulates placentas is very busy, so I guess a lot of women have already benefited from it, and are spreading the word.