Quotes About Motherhood

Como si hablara con un niño) Te diré, niño mío, que sí, Tronchada y rota soy para ti ¡Cómo me duele esta cintura donde tendrás primera cuna! ¿Cuándo mi niño vas a venir?

Yerma. «[…] ¿Qué queréis saber? No os acerquéis, porque he matado a mi hijo. ¡Yo misma he matado a mi hijo!".

Not only a pregnant woman is an outrage toward ethics but also an attack on aesthetics. Motherhood degrades women, it turns them into cows. With the forgiveness of cows, my sisters.

Mothers are generally starvers or feeders

She was my mother. Never before this had I looked at her and thought of her as someone separate, as someone else. Now, so near to her that I could smell the subtle scent of her perfume and see the clear, faint texture of her skin, I realized for the first time that I was looking at another human being who was complete within herself. She was my mother, but she was more than just a loving and convenient extension of me and my needs.

I'm a '70s mom, and my daughter is a '90s mom. I know a lot of women my age who are real computer freaks.

No matter how old a mother is, she watches her middle-aged children for signs of improvement.

Ma come spiegarle?... Non capirebbe egualmente che io son piena di me stessa, che mi occupo tutta. Anna non aspetta che dei figli per annientarsi in loro, come ha fatto sua madre, come fanno tutte le donne della famiglia.

For about a month after my baby was born I bragged to everyone that I had the perfect baby because he never cried. Then I realized those baby monitors have volume control.

Every mother should be a true artist, who knows how to weave into her child's life images of grace and beauty, the true poet capable of writing on the soul of childhood the harmony of love and truth, and teaching it how to produce the grandest of all poems - the poetry of a true and noble life.

There is nothing in the world of art like the songs mother used to sing.

If I had my life to live over, instead of wishing away nine months of pregnancy, I'd have cherished every moment and realized that the wonderment growing inside me was the only chance in life to assist God in a miracle.

At the moment of childbirth, every woman has the same aura of isolation, as though she were abandoned, alone.

A mother's love is indeed the golden link that binds youth to age, and he is still but a child, however time may have furrowed his cheek, or silvered his brow, who can yet recall, with a softened heart, the fond devotion, or the gentle chidings, of the best friend that God ever gives us.

Next to God we are indebted to women, first for life itself, and then for making it worth having.

Megan eyed the drink, enjoying the warmth of it. "You know what sucks about being a mother?" "Diapers?" "Well, yes. But I mean now. Now that they are older and more or less real human beings." "What?" "You live for their smile." Lorraine

Max emerged in the second exodus. When Grace saw her son—one sneaker lace untied, his Yu-Gi-Oh! backpack looking four sizes too big, his New York Rangers knit hat tilted to the side like a tourist's beret—the warmth rushed over anew.

You know what sucks about being a mother?" "Diapers?" "Well, yes. But I mean now. Now that they are older and more or less real human beings." "What?" "You live for their smile.

You chose motherhood. That shouldn't punish you. But it shouldn't make you special either. You lost those years in terms of work. You got out of line. You don't just get to cut back in. Equal playing field. So if a guy took off work to raise his kids, he'd be treated the same. You see?" Tia

This pain is better than the pain of giving up on him. A mother doesn't give up on her child. So I can live with the pain. I can't live with giving up.

That her son had developed all the latent characteristics of a three-dollar bill escaped her notice—all she knew was that she was glad he lived in Birmingham because he was oppressively devoted to her, which meant that she felt obliged to make an effort to reciprocate, which she could not with any spontaneity do.

laura had hoped, she'd written in her journal, that whatever befell her daughters, they would not be damaged at the level of instinct, that exact phrase.

Gestation and lactation are anatomically, physiologically mandated features of being a female mammal.

The moon was full. It looked like a breast engorged with milk because of all the babies crying in the night.