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What has begun cannot be returned to stillness.

Lines once held at a distance now touch. What was believed to be contained has learned how to move, how to listen, how to wait. Survival, once a shared understanding, has begun to ask different things of different people.

Some will answer with resolve.
Some with restraint.
Some with a longing for res…

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…

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A mother had lined up several bags of pumped breast milk. Some were nearly white. Others were yellowish. A few had a deeper golden hue. According to the caption, the differences corresponded to times when her baby was healthy and times when her baby was sick.

Like most things on social media, my first instinct was skepticism.

My second instinct was curiosity.

So I did what I always do when something catches my attention. I went looking for the research.

What I found was far more fascinating than the TikTok itself.

For years, scientists have known that breast milk is not simply food. It is a living biological system containing antibodies, immune cells, antimicrobial proteins, beneficial bacteria, specialized sugars that feed an infant’s microbiome, and a host of signaling molecules that researchers are still working to understand. Unlike formula, which is designed to remain consistent from bottle to bottle, breast milk is dynamic. It changes throughout the day. It changes as a baby grows. It changes based on maternal health. And according to an increasing body of research, it may even change in response to the health of the infant.

One study found that when breastfed infants became ill, the concentration of leukocytes, or white blood cells, in their mother’s milk increased significantly. As the infant recovered, those levels declined again. In other words, the milk itself appeared to be responding to the presence of disease.

Think about that for a moment.

The human body is not merely producing nutrition. It is participating in an ongoing biological conversation.

Researchers are still debating exactly how this communication occurs. One of the leading theories involves what is known as retrograde milk flow. During nursing, tiny amounts of an infant’s saliva may travel back into the nipple ducts. Scientists believe this may expose the mother’s immune system to pathogens or pathogen fragments the baby is encountering, allowing the mother’s immune system to respond and pass protective factors back through her milk. While the exact mechanisms remain under investigation, the evidence suggests there is far more communication occurring between mother and infant than we once imagined.

As someone with a biology background, I find this remarkable.

We spend so much time thinking of the human body as a machine. Input calories. Output energy. Cause and effect. Yet the more we learn, the more we discover that biology behaves less like a machine and more like an ecosystem.

An ecosystem is exactly what breast milk appears to be.

Human milk contains antibodies that help protect infants from disease. It contains human milk oligosaccharides, complex sugars that the baby cannot even digest but that nourish beneficial gut bacteria instead. It contains proteins such as lactoferrin that can inhibit the growth of harmful microbes. Some studies have even identified stem cells within breast milk, a discovery that continues to raise fascinating questions about development and immunity.

No wonder scientists continue to describe breast milk as one of the most complex biological fluids ever studied.

The TikTok video that started this journey may have simplified the science. Social media often does. The claim that a baby’s saliva tells the mother’s body exactly what illness is present and causes the breasts to manufacture a custom-made medicine overnight is probably more dramatic than the evidence supports.

But buried beneath the exaggeration is something extraordinary. The mother and infant are not operating as separate systems. They are engaged in an ongoing biological partnership, exchanging information through touch, contact, microbes, immune signals, and nutrition. The milk itself becomes part of that conversation.

The more I learn about nature, whether in my garden or within the human body, the more I am reminded of the same lesson.

Life is rarely isolated. Everything is connected.

The roots beneath a forest floor communicate. Pollinators and flowers communicate. The microbes in our soil communicate. And perhaps one of the most intimate examples of all is the silent conversation taking place between a mother and her child through something as seemingly simple as a feeding.

Sometimes a random TikTok rabbit hole leads nowhere. And sometimes it reminds us just how much wonder still exists in the natural world.

Selected Research and Further Reading:

Breakey, A. A., Hinde, K., Valeggia, C. R., Sinofsky, A., Ellison, P. T., & Hinde, K. (2015). Illness in Breastfeeding Infants Relates to Concentration of Leukocytes in Human Milk. American Journal of Human Biology, 27(5), 722-725.

Tomaszewska, E., et al. (2023). Immunomodulatory Effect of Infectious Disease of a Breastfed Infant on Human Breast Milk. Nutrients, 15(18), 3956.

Lokossou, A. G., et al. (2022). Human Breast Milk as a Key Component in the Development of the Infant Immune System. Frontiers in Immunology.

Andreas, N. J., Kampmann, B., & Mehring Le-Doare, K. (2015). Human Breast Milk: A Review on Its Composition and Bioactivity. Early Human Development, 91(11), 629-635.

Hassiotou, F., & Geddes, D. T. (2015). Immune Cell-Mediated Protection of the Mammary Gland and the Infant During Breastfeeding. Advances in Nutrition, 6

They picked greens from beeweed and seeds from hedge mustard, pigweed, and mountain grass. They collected wild on…

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Nito placed a hand on the Angel’s shoulder, no fear in h…

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The ghosts of strangers just echoed in their collective minds.

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Furthermore, I am transitioning into the type of woman who will not perform comfort because others don’t want to see the toxicity of what is transpiring all around them, because it makes them feel better about themselves and the society they live in. I cannot be like most people, who turn a blind eye to the suffering of others, for that is for the wide-eyed naivete of untainted youth or those who derive comfort in being a cog in the wheel.

And lastly, I cannot stay in that space of absolute blind comfort, with the experiences and longevity of a life that is more over than when it started. I am, by virtue, the antithesis of cool in this American society. The antithesis of what some describe as happy. The antithesis of easy-going for strangers. The antithesis of intentionally placed blindness.

For the average individual thrusts their ideals of what happiness is on others like me with nonlinear paths of thinking, and as I mature, I strain against the societal constraints that have always been placed on top of me, beside me, in front of me…bricks of such weight they suppress the very core of who I am.

Throughout my life, society has attempted to place me in categories completely antithetical to my core character, and with the accumulated weight of a life now closer to its ending than its beginning, I have the confidence to rebel now, for there is no longer a need to please the masses or even the individual because my happiness now does not require you to be happy. Isolation is not the purgatory it once was when I was young; now, isolation is synonymous with peace and self-reflection, like the gentle gliding of mountainous water with occasional glitches of violent waterfalls and eddying dark undercurrents.

And you know what? I am okay with that, which comes with the possibility of the judgers catapulting me out of their immediate circles because I never belonged there anyway. So, as I continue down this path of insightful honesty, especially for the young and naive, or the old and mentally trapped, know my words come from an intentional perspective, steeped in the realities of this world shaped by my experiences, both good and bad, and my education, both self-taught and institutionalized.

If the discomfort of honest discussion and thought makes you feel triggered, then I am not for you... And you know what? That is okay.

Nito placed a hand on the Angel’s shoulder, no fear in his countenance or aura.

“Come, my friend, today we will purify our body, mind, and soul…then we will celebrate. We will honor the coming home of a new family member and the safety of our children. We will eat, we will sing, and we will commune with the people.”

The men walked out of their homes, heading to the Sweat-Hohrahn, or Tah’tsay, where they joined in purifying their bodies after their return from various journeys. Some returned from the Badlands, helping keep the powerful borders in place so the Rot, which had not yet been cleansed from the Great War, could not spread. Others returned from a journey filled with harsh lessons, where the Rot had seeped out of the barriers, attempting to spread its vile intent.

Dorian and Nito approached the Tah’tsay, where some were already partaking in the purifying ceremony. It was a large structure, erected like a trivet, with the east still marking the sides of its door. It was covered with earth and cedar bark, creating an almost airtight room.

Stripped bare, like those whom he would call brothers after this day, he entered the structure and found himself in a lodge with heated rocks in the center and blankets littering the area. Around him, men sang a ritualistic song as the heat from the stones caused sweat to drip from his brow and coat his body with a light sheen of perspiration.

The heat relaxed his muscles, alleviating his pain and stiffness from his battle with the Rot. Now that he was reborn into flesh and blood, he could suffer injuries like the mortals he’d always watched. Dorian listened to the songs sung by the men, a curious melody of four verses, only for them to leave the Tah’tsay, plunge themselves into the river’s cold water, come back again, sing four more verses, and repeat the process until the song ended. It was now his turn to sing the song’s words, which he picked up after hearing it for the first time.

Dorian honored them and their traditions, mimicking their intonations, words, and gestures, even dipping into the river’s frigid waters. He felt the rejuvenation of his body, the lightening of the weight he carried on his broad shoulders, and a kinsmanship with the men. He felt no judgment, no fear, only acceptance with a healthy dose of curiosity. Angels were a myth to many, never seen nor heard but by a select few.

The men laughed as they dove into the icy river, coming up sputtering water when someone dunked them. He partook of the good-natured ribbing all around him. He’d never played before, not like this. Dorian had never really been a child. There was only Gabrielle, Keyrzo, and Tzer in his life. Although they explored the universe together, its planet’s lands and flourishing animals as they evolved on the star-flung mantle of their creators, the four of them only felt curiosity, peace, and a semblance of love through their connectedness to others, but never the unadulterated joy of play.

Dorian stood there a bit bemused, unsure of himself and uncertain of what was acceptable conduct or what to do. Then, Sons-ee-ah-ray cannonballed in the river next to him, sending a surge of frigid water right at him, soaking him. His hair was drenched and stuck to the sides of his face as he heard the youngster giggle at having snuck up on the Angel.

A grin formed on Dorian’s face as he caught the child’s mischievous look. However, he saw how the boy had cleverly picked up on his discomfort and its dilemma. As an astute child, he helped this newcomer break the ice with the men who played in the waters beside him, and Dorina could only be thankful.

His awkwardness immediately dissipated as he joined in with the roughhouse play and felt nothing but acceptance from them. He threw off his anxious restraint with a laugh, splashing the boy with a thunderous wave of water to the amusement of the others. Shaking from the river’s frigid water, they dared each other to dive further into its cold, murky depths, laughing at each other’s derring-do, enjoying the art of just being.

Then, the unexpected happened. The men began to shift into fish, chasing each other underwater, where their now cold-blooded bodies were not bothered by the frigid waters. They chased each other through the swirling depths of the river, diving out of the water, only to turn into birds, taking their play into the skies.

This transformation evoked a rush of memories of when he and his brethren rode the celestial winds or swam through a comet’s wake. Laughter boomed out of his chest as he now played unabashedly for the first time in a long while.

They played for hours until the children became exhausted, their bellies growling from the exhausting comradery and play. The men and children made their way back to their home site, where food preparation was well underway. The twilight’s dusk began to settle in the skies, and fires were lit to illuminate the ongoing celebration.

As he and the other men and boys returned from the river, Dorian smelled the tantalizing scent of grilled mutton and corn. His body had never ingested food, taking his sustenance from nature’s bountiful energies around him. He’d never required it, but now, the smell caused his stomach to growl, an altogether uncomfortable feeling he’d never experienced. His mouth watered as his senses were bombarded with the sound of the meat sizzling over the grill and the irresistible smell of the wafting fragrance of the food teased his senses. He frowned at the foreign feelings as his mouth watered for the simple fare being cooked for the celebration.

Small flour cakes, rounded and flattened, were cooked over the hot embers of the fire while women ground Sumac Berries in preparation for the traditional soup whose recipe was passed down from mother to mother. Their flowing red dresses kept the brisk spring air at bay, while the stark white aprons kept their garb clean for preparing and cooking this day’s feast. Bread fried in skillets off the heat of the fires built outside many homes illuminated the site. They would help feed those who came to celebrate life today and make their presence and acceptance known for welcoming another into their Clan’s fold. Smiles and laughter filled the air, causing a tightening in Dorina’s chest from his newfound sense of belonging.

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The Rot had…

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Few understood its true powers, and its potential was harnessed by even fewer. Those able to…

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