I know it’s been a long time since I’ve posted. I apologize, and I don’t.

I apologize to anyone who worried about me. I didn’t mean to worry you. And I thank you for continuing to write in and check on me. It means a lot that you cared enough to notice that I was gone.

And I don’t apologize because I did what I needed to do. I reached a point where I needed to stop writing about grieving and I needed to focus on actually grieving instead.

Anyway – here’s what brought me back to the blog. This. This blog post. And this article. My friend Kori posted on my Facebook wall about them, and I will tell you what I told her: It was the single most comforting thing I have read since Lauren died.

Here’s what it says, in a nutshell. When a woman carries a child, some of the fetus’s DNA cells pass through the placenta. These cells stay with the mother the rest of her life, and may even be a benefit to her health. They can even pass to future siblings. This is true even in pregnancies that end very early.

In other words, some small piece of Lauren is still with me. It’s as if what I’ve known in my heart all along has been proven by science. Really. I even know the fancy name to prove it: fetomaternal microchimerism.

I think that’s what makes it comforting. It’s not a religious platitude based in a faith that I don’t share. Many people have tried to comfort me in this way. She’s in Heaven playing in the clouds, smiling down on you, they say. Or maybe, You’ll see her again someday. My gut reaction to these attempts at consolation is to say (angrily, I might add), “You don’t know whether that’s true or not, so don’t act as if you do. Don’t speak about it as if it’s a fact.”

I’m not trying to knock religion. If it’s your thing, if it works for you, that’s fine with me. I’m just saying, somebody telling me something they believe, stating it as if it’s a fact, especially when I don’t believe in it…. That doesn’t help me.

Science helps me. This is why I like yoga. Yoga, in its essence, is a science. Most people don’t know that.

So far, science has failed me where Lauren is concerned. It couldn’t explain to me why she died when I did everything right. It can’t explain to me why, now, almost ten months after losing her (note that we have now been apart longer than we were together), I still feel her kicking me from time to time. Phantom Kicks, they call it. It’s apparently pretty common, but they have no idea why it happens.

But here science is, coming through for me, telling me a few cells containing my little girl’s DNA are still with me.

It doesn’t change anything, but it’s nice to know.