“This is what an umbilical cord is supposed to look like. White. Limp. Translucent. Because its mission is complete. Every last drop of cord blood has been delivered to the baby – as designed. But that’s not what usually happens. In most hospitals, the cord is clamped and cut within seconds. The baby cries, the team moves fast, and parents are told “it’s routine.” No one stops to ask… What was in that cord? And where did it go? Let’s break it down: Cord blood is not extra. It’s loaded with: 🩸 Up to ⅓ of your baby’s total blood volume 🧠 Oxygen to protect the brain 🛡️ Immune cells to prevent infection 💪 Iron to prevent anemia 💉 STEM CELLS to repair and build tissue, organs, and immunity This isn’t waste. It’s a biological treasure. So ask yourself… why is it clamped early? Why are we told the cord is useless after birth, when the baby hasn’t even received all of what’s theirs? And here’s the darker truth: 💰 That cord blood is worth thousands on the market 💰 The placenta is sold for stem cell research, vaccine development, skincare, cosmetics, and Big Pharma products 💰 Entire biotech companies are built on the lie that your baby’s leftovers are “medical waste” But the parents? They’re left in the dark. Told it’s “no big deal.” Told it’s just discarded. While behind the scenes, someone else cashes in. This system isn’t broken. It was built this way. But THIS photo shows what happens when you don’t comply. When you wait. When you let the birth unfold as it was designed. When the baby receives all of their blood. Their protection. Their power. This is the kind of image that makes people uncomfortable – Because it exposes what most have never questioned. But once you see it… You can’t unsee it. SEE. IT.” ~ DrJodi Shabazz
Look at this photo. I mean -really- look at it. What do you see?
Two women. Two battles.
Two hearts. Two souls. Two bodies.
When you look at this photo, try not to judge.
Instead, try to understand that we all face our own battles every day. Some we might share with others, some we keep to ourselves. They might be obvious. They might not be.
Everyone is facing something they struggle with. EVERYONE.
And no matter what separates your battles from hers, his battles from theirs, we are ALL human.
Often times we defend ourselves via anger due to feeling the need to protect the inner child from hurt. Be that suppressed ice-cold passive anger or outright active anger.
Every trigger is an opportunity to respond in a more loving way. I don’t mean being a pleaser or a victim and allowing someone to treat you badly. I mean being able to be compassionate which means unconditional loving with ‘healthy boundaries.’
Sometimes you will react strongly when the button is pushed, other times you will have space enough to move away and de-escalate the hurt. When you do get space, even for a few minutes, it’s an opportunity to be loving towards your inner child and reassuring them that they are safe within you. They are sensitive to discordant vibrations within the nervous system. They need to hear from you!
This dialogue with the inner child helps in calming the hurt and calming the nervous system, so you can find a healthy response rather than a reaction.
We are all a work in progress. One breath one step at a time. Your inner child needs to feel safe within you, and the best person to give them that reassurance, is you.
Ay-hay, nitotem. Sit with me by the fire awhile. Let me tell you a story—one the ancestors placed in my heart when I was young and full of hurt, and one that’s kept me walking straight even when the winds of sorrow tried to bend me.
Long ago, before the town came, before the hydro dams took the breath from our rivers, there was a boy named Kīsikāw, which means “He Who Comes From the Sky.” He was born during a thunderstorm—his first cries were swallowed by the roar of the heavens, and the old ones said he was destined to carry lightning in his heart. But that lightning—it’s a dangerous thing, êkwa—because it can burn just as easily as it can shine.
Kīsikāw grew up in a house where love was a quiet, broken thing. His father, wounded by residential school, carried pain like a second skin. He didn’t know how to be gentle. His words struck like fists. His silence cut deeper. And his mother, she tried—oh, how she tried—but she was drowning in her own grief. The boy learned early that some wounds don’t bleed on the outside.
When Kīsikāw was older, he carried that pain like a bone knife tucked under his ribs. He judged quickly, he rejected before he could be rejected, and his shame made him sharp. People saw him as cold, but really, he was just trying not to break apart.
Then, one day, an old woman named Nôhkom Iskwew came to him. She had eyes like the still waters of Pimicikamak, deep and watching. She said, “Grandson, the hurt you carry—did it make you stronger, or just harder?” He couldn’t answer. “You carry the hurt of generations, but you have the chance to be the one who lays it down. Be the one who breaks the chain, not the one who binds it tighter.”
He sat with that. It didn’t make sense at first. How do you heal by opening old wounds? But she told him: “When you were judged, did you not cry out for understanding? When you were cast aside, did you not long for someone to accept you, as you are? Then be that someone.”
And slowly—like the river thawing in spring—he began to change. He learned to listen without defending. To forgive without forgetting. To speak from his heart instead of his pain. He chose to be gentle where his father was harsh. To love fiercely where he was taught to be silent. He became the man he needed as a boy, and in doing so, he healed not only himself, but his children, and their children too.
So I say to you, kîsikâw pîsim, sun-child: be the one who breaks the cycle. Choose compassion over cruelty. Choose to be medicine, not more poison. You are not what happened to you—you are what you choose to become from it.
That is our way. That is the power of pimâtisiwin—the sacred life. Carry it gently.
So reach for me Like the petals of a rose Bloom in it’s season Gentle and slow My body is the mountain The ocean, the river The sand and the soil The life giver So come on now, my friend Speak to me Help me understand Let us walk together Take my hand And we will heal this land
Here is a warning for all from an ER nurse who says, this is the best description of a woman having a heart attack that she has ever heard. Please read, pay attention, and SHARE……….
FEMALE HEART ATTACKS
I was aware that female heart attacks are different, but this is the best description I’ve ever read.
Women rarely have the same dramatic symptoms that men have … you know, the sudden stabbing pain in the chest, the cold sweat, grabbing the chest & dropping to the floor that we see in movies. Here is the story of one woman’s experience with a heart attack.
I had a heart attack at about 10:30 PM with NO prior exertion, NO prior emotional trauma that one would suspect might have brought it on. I was sitting all snugly & warm on a cold evening, with my purring cat in my lap, reading an interesting story my friend had sent me, and actually thinking, ‘A-A-h, this is the life, all cozy and warm in my soft, cushy Lazy Boy with my feet propped up.
A moment later, I felt that awful sensation of indigestion, when you’ve been in a hurry and grabbed a bite of sandwich and washed it down with a dash of water, and that hurried bite seems to feel like you’ve swallowed a golf ball going down the esophagus in slow motion and it is most uncomfortable. You realize you shouldn’t have gulped it down so fast and needed to chew it more thoroughly and this time drink a glass of water to hasten its progress down to the stomach. This was my initial sensation–the only trouble was that I hadn’t taken a bite of anything since about 5:00 p.m.
After it seemed to subside, the next sensation was like little squeezing motions that seemed to be racing up my SPINE (hind-sight, it was probably my aorta spasms), gaining speed as they continued racing up and under my sternum (breast bone, where one presses rhythmically when administering CPR).
This fascinating process continued on into my throat and branched out into both jaws. ‘AHA!! NOW I stopped puzzling about what was happening — we all have read and/or heard about pain in the jaws being one of the signals of an MI happening, haven’t we? I said aloud to myself and the cat, Dear God, I think I’m having a heart attack!
I lowered the foot rest dumping the cat from my lap, started to take a step and fell on the floor instead. I thought to myself, If this is a heart attack, I shouldn’t be walking into the next room where the phone is or anywhere else… but, on the other hand, if I don’t, nobody will know that I need help, and if I wait any longer I may not be able to get up in a moment.
I pulled myself up with the arms of the chair, walked slowly into the next room and dialed the Paramedics… I told her I thought I was having a heart attack due to the pressure building under the sternum and radiating into my jaws. I didn’t feel hysterical or afraid, just stating the facts. She said she was sending the Paramedics over immediately, asked if the front door was near to me, and if so, to un-bolt the door and then lie down on the floor where they could see me when they came in.
I unlocked the door and then laid down on the floor as instructed and lost consciousness, as I don’t remember the medics coming in, their examination, lifting me onto a gurney or getting me into their ambulance, or hearing the call they made to St. Jude ER on the way, but I did briefly awaken when we arrived and saw that the radiologist was already there in his surgical blues and cap, helping the medics pull my stretcher out of the ambulance. He was bending over me asking questions (probably something like ‘Have you taken any medications?’) but I couldn’t make my mind interpret what he was saying, or form an answer, and nodded off again, not waking up until the Cardiologist and partner had already threaded the teeny angiogram balloon up my femoral artery into the aorta and into my heart where they installed 2 side by side stints to hold open my right coronary artery.
I know it sounds like all my thinking and actions at home must have taken at least 20-30 minutes before calling the paramedics, but actually it took perhaps 4-5 minutes before the call, and both the fire station and St Jude are only minutes away from my home, and my Cardiologist was already to go to the OR in his scrubs and get going on restarting my heart (which had stopped somewhere between my arrival and the procedure) and installing the stents. Why have I written all of this to you with so much detail? Because I want all of you who are so important in my life to know what I learned first hand.
Be aware that something very different is happening in your body, not the usual men’s symptoms but inexplicable things happening (until my sternum and jaws got into the act). It is said that many more women than men die of their first (and last) MI because they didn’t know they were having one and commonly mistake it as indigestion, take some Maalox or other anti-heartburn preparation and go to bed, hoping they’ll feel better in the morning when they wake up… which doesn’t happen. My female friends, your symptoms might not be exactly like mine, so I advise you to call the Paramedics if ANYTHING is unpleasantly happening that you’ve not felt before. It is better to have a ‘false alarm’ visitation than to risk your life guessing what it might be!
Note that I said ‘Call the Paramedics.’ And if you can take an aspirin. Ladies, TIME IS OF THE ESSENCE!
Do NOT try to drive yourself to the ER – you are a hazard to others on the road.
Do NOT have your panicked husband who will be speeding and looking anxiously at what’s happening with you instead of the road.
Do NOT call your doctor — he doesn’t know where you live and if it’s at night you won’t reach him anyway, and if it’s daytime, his assistants (or answering service) will tell you to call the Paramedics. He doesn’t carry the equipment in his car that you need to be saved! The Paramedics do, principally OXYGEN that you need ASAP. Your Dr. will be notified later.
Don’t assume it couldn’t be a heart attack because you have a normal cholesterol count. Research has discovered that a cholesterol elevated reading is rarely the cause of an MI (unless it’s unbelievably high and/or accompanied by high blood pressure). MIs are usually caused by long-term stress and inflammation in the body, which dumps all sorts of deadly hormones into your system to sludge things up in there. Pain in the jaw can wake you from a sound sleep. Let’s be careful and be aware. The more we know the better chance we could survive.
A cardiologist says if everyone who sees this post would Share or re-post, you can be sure that we’ll save at least one life.
*Please be a true friend and SHARE this article to all your friends, women & men too. Most men have female loved ones and could greatly benefit from know this information too!
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