A few days ago, funny timing really, I read an article about the exchange of cells between mother and child. Somehow scientists have demonstrated that little bits of the child stay with the mother, deep in her brain, long after birth. Actual cells. Microscopic but very real physical remnants of her offspring are hidden away in her body, protected and preserved forever in the deep and mysterious folds of her brain. The amniotic connection may end shortly after birth, but the real connection lasts forever.
I could have told them that. I could have told them, albeit without the autopsy, that she never lives a day of her life without thinking of her children and wishing desperately for them to know her thoughts. Feeling them like slender ghosts in her arms. Hearing their clear, sweet voices or smelling their sunshiny hair, counting their pearly teeth. That no matter how she manages to fill her expansive days (out of desperation, never preference), nothing compares to time with them and no worldly peace measures up to knowing they are safe and happy.
I am so glad science now knows that the mother and child are never really separated. But I could have told them.
XOXOXOXO