Quotes About Motherhood

I remember once reading about Sylvia Plath. She was a young divorcee with two small children when she wrote some of her best poetry—at 4 or 5 A.M., before the kids woke. That's how much she wanted it.

I declare it well befits me to thank our God for simpler pleasures than these, than teak or gold or India cloth. Daily, in my youth, should not I have fallen upon my knees and thanked Him who died for us upon the Cross for the warmth of kindled fires, for the freedom to swing my hands in the air? Should I not have praised Him for the liberty to open doors and pass through them, for the escape from drudgery, and most, my mother's hand to hold?

I did not go easy to motherhood. I faced it as soldiers face their enemies, girded and braced, sword up against the coming blows. Yet all my preparations were not enough.

I was giddy feeling his first kicks and I spoke to him every moment, as I crushed my herbs, as I cut clothes for his body, wove his cradle out of rushes. I imagined him walking beside me, the child and boy and man that he would be.

It occurred to him that seeing a woman's child is like seeing a woman naked, in the way it changes how her face looks to you, how her face becomes less the whole story.

She was styled for abundant lactation, and her uniform blouse was not.

El corazón de una madre es algo inmenso y glorioso. El corazón de mi madre era amplio, fue dilatado por el sufrimiento y años de aferrarse a Jesús mientras era malentendida, ignorada y juzgada por aquellos a quienes más amaba. Incluyéndome a mí. Le costó mucho amar, le costó mucho ser madre. Siempre es así. Pero te diría que bien valió la pena; que no hay otra forma.

She was forty-one years old, and she was tired. But the fatigue would pass. The old dreams of full-time motherhood and a cushy retirement were forever forgotten.

Elizabeth and her younger sisters, Claude and Marguerite, followed their mother's example.

She especially yearned for her son. She could glean little news of him

The baby, when he finally arrived, was in excellent health. Mary was exhausted but triumphant.

and perfectly capable of bearing children if only she chose to marry.

With Mary crowned queen, her mother could afford some fun and dalliance.

Importantly, it was in this out north to Steering, with the real Ellen James sleep and in his care, that T. S. Garp decided he would try to be more like his mother, Jenny Fields. A thought, it occurred to him, that would have pleased his mother greatly if it had only come to him when she was alive.

Quería trabajar y vivir sola. Eso me convirtió en sexualmente sospechosa. Después deseé tener un hijo sin que para ello tuviera que compartir mi cuerpo ni mi vida. También eso me convirtió en sexualmente sospechosa.

No estoy aquí, que soy tu madre?

One day, Jenny Fields thought, she would like to have a baby – just one.

He would deliver babies. He would deliver mothers, too.

With our mothers, we are always alone

Mothers got a hard road to travel, believe me.

We make her bear and raise our children And then we leave her flat for being a fat old mother hen We tell her, home is the only place she should be Then we complain that she's too unworldly to be our friend

As I've gotten older, my mannerisms are more and more like my mom's. Also, she was an educator - she's extremely passionate about education and children. I guess I inherited that in some way.

Being a mother adds another emotional dimension, a feel for children that I didn't have before I had one. They were a pain before.

Everything with me is pretty close to the surface, but having kids has completely ruined my emotional equilibrium.