Quotes About Motherhood

I've had a baby. I've had an abortion.

My son's baby paraphernalia always ends up in my bag.

When you hold a baby in your arms, you don't want to put it in a basket right away. You want to keep the baby close.

I want happiness for my daughter - I want Carrie to be happy.

Sometimes when you love someone like a mother loves her child, that love can turn into fear. It happens to me all the time. I am so afraid that the world will not be kind to my children.

Women just weren't made to bear children to give them away.

I am scared of becoming a mother.

When a child is small, it is his mother who is mainly responsible for the way he is brought up. So it was with me. I belonged in those days to my mother rather than my father.

As she studies the pictures, she breaks down from time to time, weeping as only a mother who has outlived a child can weep, betraying a sense of loss so huge and irreparable that the mind balks at taking its measure.

He says when your grandmother died your mother cried solidly for a week, solidly. She was crying with relief he says, it was like as if a door had been unlocked and she'd been let outside, she said to me I'm safe now. He waits, and he says this kid, when it's born, you mustn't ever let it think it's anything other than a gift and a blessing, do you hear me?

Your little body had once been deeper inside your mother than your father's dick had ever gone, you'd squeezed your entire goddamned head through her pussy, and then for the longest time you'd sucked on her tits whenever you felt like it, and you couldn't for the life of you remember it. You found yourself self-alienated from the get-go.

Don't you love me, Mother?" Cornered by the question, she agreed to try to help him. Before she left the church, it seemed necessary to both of them that they embrace, and what an odd embrace it was, what a sick transaction. She, who wasn't capable of real love, pretended to love him while he, who really did love her, exploited her pretended love.

I don't know how late it got. I probably fell asleep, but I don't remember. I cried so much that everything blurred into everything else. At some point she was carrying me to my room. Then I was in bed. She was looking over me. I don't believe in God, but I believe that things are extremely complicated, and her looking over me was as complicated as anything ever could be. But it was also incredibly simple. In my only life, she was my mom, and I was her son.

I am a mother, she thought—not an answer to the question being asked, and no more her ultimate ambition than happiness, but her ultimate identity.

Men become mothers to one another in combat. The grief and rage that they experience when the special comrade is killed appears virtually identical to that of a child suddenly orphaned, and they feel that the mother within them has died with the friend.

Giving birth is definitely a heroic deed, in that it is the giving over of oneself to the life of another.

Human beings are born too soon; they are unfinished, unready as yet to meet the world. Consequently their whole defense from a universe of dangers is the mother, under whose protection the intra-uterine period is prolonged.

But the mistery of the woman is no less a mystery than death. Childbirth is no less a mystery; nor the flow of the mother's milk; nor the menstrual cycle -in its acoord with the moon. The creative magic of the female body is a thing of wonder in itself.

Being in the place of a mother to you, since your poor mother died, I say this, Audrey—when a gentleman goes to Australia, he has his reasons. And when he stays in Australia fifteen years, as Mr. Mark says, and as I know for myself for five years, he has his reasons. And a respectably brought-up girl doesn't ask what reasons.

Ma mère sait se sortir du pétrin. Ma mère fait ce qu'il y a à faire. Elle est une preuve que la vie fonctionne, même après une catastrophe.

Women who miscalculate are called mothers.

All that I am or ever hope to be, I owe to my angel mother.

What if, instead of carrying a child, I am supposed to carry grief?

I saw a mom take her raincoat off and give it to her young daughter when a storm took over the afternoon. My god, I thought, my whole life I've been under her raincoat thinking it was somehow a marvel that I never got wet.