In ancient graves, I’ve found mothers buried with their infants—fossilized tenderness, traces of milk in tiny jawbones. From stone-age caves to bronze-age huts, breastfeeding has been more than survival—it's a silent dialogue of love, warmth, and continuity. Across millennia, that bond remains unchanged. The world evolves, but a mother's embrace endures.
Yasadhh
1 hr agoIn ancient graves, I’ve found mothers buried with their infants—fossilized tenderness, traces of milk in tiny jawbones. From stone-age caves to bronze-age huts, breastfeeding has been more than survival—it's a silent dialogue of love, warmth, and continuity. Across millennia, that bond remains unchanged. The world evolves, but a mother's embrace endures.