This week, I watched a German film "3," which involved a married couple and their lover, a story about a very fluid triangle. Yet the triangle for me wasn't the most exciting aspect of this film, though the story was good and interesting and involved coincidence. What caught my attention was a theory that the lover in this film, a scientist, lectured about. A stem cell researcher, he claimed that fetal stem cells enter into the mother during pregnancy and become part of the mother.
Later, after mulling relationships and long term marriages, I researched this stem cell notion, and came up with this information:
One kind of fetal cells that enter into the mother’s body is the baby’s stem cells. Stem cells have what [Jena] Pinctott calls “magical properties” in that they can “morph” into other types of cells through a process called differentiation. The baby’s fetal stem cells can actually become the mother’s own cells that make up her liver, heart, or brain.
Of course, I thought, knowing this from having been pregnant, from having been a mother. I knew that even though my babies were born and "out" of my body, they were still in me. Somehow, I know that these babies now men are still part of my heart and brain. I'm not so sure about the liver, but I know that having given birth doesn't end the physical connection between mother and child.
There's more, too. Out there in genius land are ideas such as cellular memory. Researchers have been dealing with the phenomena of transplant recipients having memories or cravings or recollections that they feel are not theirs--but now are due to the body parts they were given. Suddenly, a woman loves beer. Another man--a vegetarian--wants a hamburger. Memory, these researchers say, comes not just from the brain but from other organs and cells other than brain.
So maybe I'm just trying to find a scientific way to explain what I've known all along, since that day my first son was born. My children may be out there, away, but part of them is here, left in me, something more than emotion or concern or sentiment. There is a centered feeling of connection that binds me to them.
I can do all the things we are supposed to do to let our children live their lives. We can not judge. We can be supportive but not enabling. We can help out but not overtake or overwhelm. But I feel them inside me, their stem cells from long ago, right there, in my heart.
Causes Jessica Inclán Supports
Women for Women International Goodwill Industries Lindsey Wildlife Museum Freecycle.org