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Childbirth Quotes

Browse 278 quotes about Childbirth.

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Childbirth Quotes

“Nick and the Candlestick I am a miner. The light burns blue. Waxy stalactites Drip and thicken, tears The earthen womb Exudes from its dead boredom. Black bat airs Wrap me, raggy shawls, Cold homicides. They weld to me like plums. Old cave of calcium Icicles, old echoer. Even the newts are white, Those holy Joes. And the fish, the fish ---- Christ! they are panes of ice, A vice of knives, A piranha Religion, drinking Its first communion out of my live toes. The candle Gulps and recovers its small altitude, Its yellows hearten. O love, how did you get here? O embryo Remembering, even in sleep, Your crossed position. The blood blooms clean In you, ruby. The pain You wake to is not yours. Love, love, I have hung our cave with roses, With soft rugs ---- The last of Victoriana. Let the stars Plummet to their dark address, Let the mercuric Atoms that cripple drip Into the terrible well, You are the one Solid the spaces lean on, envious. You are the baby in the barn.”

ChildrenPoetryPregnancyBabiesChildbirth
Book:Ariel
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“The best way to teach a child is live an exemplary life.”

LifeLife QuotesTeachingChildhoodLife PhilosophyBirthLife And LivingEducatedParentsLivePregnancyParenthoodLearnChildEducational PhilosophyLive In The MomentParents And ChildrenChildbirthLearning ProcessChildren S BooksEducational QuotesParenting AdviceTeaching ChildrenParenting ChildrenLearning LessonsLearning To ReadLearning By DoingTeachers And Learners
Book:Think Great: Be Great!
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“We are God's chosen people. We are God's treasured possession. Let us rise in mighty strength to possess our rightful places as God's children.”

PowerPathMothersChildChristian LivingChild AbuseParents And ChildrenCourage QuotesBelief QuotesChild Of GodChildbirthStrength Through AdversityChildren S BooksGods GraceMothers And DaughtersRight PathBelief In GodParenting AdviceBelieversChristianity FaithGods PowerBible QuotesStrength And CourageReligion And PhilosophyParenting ChildrenChildren S LiteratureStrength Of SpiritPath Of LifeCourage In LifeChristianity QuotesCourage To Be OneselfParental LoveReligion ChristianityMothers And SonsMothers Day QuotesGrace And DivineChildren Of GodChristianity And FaithFavour QuotesGrace And FavourGrace DrivenBelief In Bible
Book:Think Great: Be Great!
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“How naive Lore had been, despite being the daughter of a father no one spoke of, despite the strange, incomplete conversations at her mother’s deathbed; how again and again she was caught up short by the discovery that other people had stories they didn’t tell, or told stories that weren’t entirely true. How mostly you got odd chunks torn from the whole, impossible truly to understand in their damaged form.”

BetrayalMotherhoodChildbirthEmotional PainLies We Tell Ourselves
Book:Eleven Hours
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“Discrimination is the most polite word for abuse aka denying equal opportunity by anyone in power based on age, ancestry, color, disability (mental and physical), exercising the right to family care and medical leave, gender, gender expression, gender identity, genetic information, marital status, medical condition, military or veteran status, national origin, political affiliation, race, religious creed, sex (includes pregnancy, childbirth, breastfeeding and related medical conditions), and sexual orientation.”

AgeSexRaceColorAbuseGenderDiscriminationPregnancyDisabilityChildbirthAncestryEqual OpportunityBreastfeedingSexual OrientationMarital StatusGenetic InformationMedical ConditionPolitical AffiliationFamily Care And Medical LeaveMilitary Or Veteran StatusNational OriginReligious Creed
Author:Ramesh Lohia
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“Soon after the birth, Maria was shown her son. He was no longer crying. The baby was tiny, frail, his skin wrinkled — yet his bright, restless eyes darted stubbornly in every direction, as if he were trying to take in this vast, unfamiliar, and beautiful world as quickly as possible. “You did well, Maria! You have a son! You did well!” Irina kissed her daughter’s hand joyfully. “Everything will be all right now.” Seeing her child, Maria felt relief wash over her. She longed to take him into her arms, to press him to her chest — but the baby was taken away. After the necessary procedures, the midwife quietly pulled Irina aside. “Breastfeeding is dangerous,” she whispered. “The baby could contract typhus. But he is premature, weak — and if he does not receive colostrum now, I fear he will not survive. The previous woman gave birth a week ago and has no colostrum left. I believe we must take the risk: newborns contract infection from sick mothers in only about a third of cases.” Irina looked at her grandson lying in her arms. He jerked his tiny hands and feet at random — then smiled clumsily. “God’s will be done,” she said firmly. “A child must drink his mother’s milk.” When the alcohol-sterilized breast was offered to the baby, it turned out his mouth was too small to take the nipple. Fortunately, the other breast was smaller — and the boy latched on with determined urgency. Holding the flesh of her flesh to her chest, feeling her son’s gentle sucking, Maria experienced a moment of pure euphoria. The terrible illness receded, making way for the overwhelming joy of motherhood. Neither Maria nor the newborn knew of the danger of infection. They were simply following the ancient law of nature. And Irina spent the rest of the day in prayer, asking God to spare two souls — her daughter and her grandson. — Volodymyr Shablia, Stone. Book One Context note: During the Ukrainian Civil War of 1920, amid epidemics, hunger, and collapsing authority, a premature child is born into a world where survival depends on instinct, faith, and impossible choices. This moment captures motherhood and mercy standing against historical catastrophe.”

FaithMotherhoodCivil WarHistorical FictionUkraineEpidemicsChildbirthMother And ChildMoral ChoiceEarly 20th Century
Book:Камінь. Біографічний роман. Книга перша. Перші кроки до світла та назад: Дитинство та занурення в ГУЛАГ.
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“Every child should be nurture with great love. The feeling of great love promotes wellness and potential for greatness.”

Love QuotesLove StoryWell BeingWellnessPregnancyParenthoodHealthcareHealthy LivingNurtureParents And ChildrenGreatness QuotesNurturingChildbirthChildren S BooksLoving PeopleParenting AdviceLoving KindnessGreat ExpectationsGreater GloryParenting ChildrenWellPotential QuotesPotential For GreatnessParental LoveLovers Love StoryPotential Of Your Own MindLover MineLover RebornChild Childhood
Book:Think Great: Be Great!
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“The scroll slowed on a post from Madison. Predictably, she was sharing more pregnancy content. Today's post was a column graph about maternal mortality rates, accompanied by the caption: This makes me so sad. Growing a human is hard enough. We shouldn't have to fear for our lives on top of that. Mae frowned. The graph was cut off. It showed rates for All, White, and Hispanic, but there was a sliver of what looked like another bar on the far right. Under it, the only part of the word that didn't get cut off was Bl. Ordinarily, Mae wouldn't have wasted any time on this. It was just Madison being Madison, thinking of herself and no one else. But after learning about her grandma Doris's racist past yesterday, it was hard to look past anything about the Parkers anymore. A reverse-image search turned up the original article, titled Black women three times more likely to die in childbirth than white women. The full graph showed that the column for Black women towered over the other columns Madison had posted. Anger and annoyance rising within her, Mae returned to Madison's post and started typing. You'll be fine. If you'd read the article and shared the full graph, you'd know the point of the piece is that Black women are way more at risk. Or do you not care about that?”

ChildbirthWhite FeminismTruth BombBlack Women MatterMortality Rate
Book:The Townsend Family Recipe for Disaster
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“When we enter the world of birth, we step across the threshold from the mundane to the sacred. Pregnancy and birth are a space between worlds — a liminal space — a place where you are no longer not a parent and not yet one either. This betwixt and between is sacred space within which powerful and profound events occur — often uninvited.”

ChildbirthLiminalityLiminal Spaces
Book:Transformed by Birth: Cultivating Openness, Resilience, and Strength for the Life-Changing Journey from Pregnancy to Parenthood
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“People say the day your baby is born is the happiest day of your life. It certainly is for the dads. Call me crazy if you want, but the day I watched my doctor sew stitches into my torn vagina was not my favorite.”

HumorFunnyParentingWomanhoodChildbirthMotherhood QuotesKids HumorKids FunnyMotherhood Humor
Book:Don't Dance on the Toilet, and Other Things I Never Thought I'd Say to My Kids
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“Every year when I take my girls in for their yearly checkup, the nurse hands me a questionnaire about their upbringing. It asks how many fruits and vegetables they eat, how much TV they watch, how much I read to them, how much physical exercise they get, etc. Each time I see the questionnaire, I laugh and think, “Yeah. I’m not answering any of these questions honestly.”

HumorFunnyParentingWomanhoodChildbirthMotherhood QuotesKids HumorKids FunnyMotherhood Humor
Book:Don't Dance on the Toilet, and Other Things I Never Thought I'd Say to My Kids
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“Look, girls, the Easter bunny is here at the mall," I said. "Do you want to go say hello?” Rose peeked over the picket fence around the photo area. She cocked an eyebrow. “Mom,” she said, “Why is the Easter Bunny hiding inside that scary costume?”

HumorFunnyParentingWomanhoodChildbirthMotherhood QuotesKids HumorKids FunnyMotherhood Humor
Book:Don't Dance on the Toilet, and Other Things I Never Thought I'd Say to My Kids
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“Hope is the assurance of positive expectations.”

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Book:Think Great: Be Great!
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“Niet zo lang geleden dacht hij (en Vlieghe en Dondeyne geloofden het ook) dat moeders pijn in hun buik kregen, de weeën, en dan snel naar de wc waggelden, hurkten, kakten, dat de drol meteen door buurvrouwen uit het water werd gehaald vóór hij kon smelten, en op het zeil van de keukentafel werd gelegd, waar hij door teder tegen elkaar koutende ouders tot een kind werd geboetseerd, waarop, door intens gebed opgeroepen, vanuit het raam of de schoorsteen een wind begon te waaien die neerstreek over de bruine klei, de adem van God die leven blies in de stront die kleuren kreeg en als van rubber begon te plooien en zich uit te rekken, en dan brulde naar zijn Mama om de eerste papfles.”

GodChildbirthFeces
Book:Het verdriet van België
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“Nobody ever talked about what a struggle this all was. I could see why women used to die in childbirth. They didn't catch some kind of microbe, or even hemorrhage. They just gave up. They knew that if they didn't die, they'd be going through it again the next year, and the next. I couldn't understand how a woman might just stop trying, like a tired swimmer, let her head go under, the water fill her lungs. I slowly massaged Yvonne's neck, her shoulders, I wouldn't let her go under. She sucked ice through threadbare white terry. If my mother were here, she'd have made Melinda meek cough up the drugs, sure enough. "Mamacita, ay," Yvonne wailed. I didn't know why she would call her mother. She hated her mother. She hadn't seen her in six years, since the day she locked Yvonne and her brother and sisters in their apartment in Burbank to go out and party, and never came back. Yvonne said she let her boyfriends run a train on her when she was eleven. I didn't even know what that meant. Gang bang, she said. And still she called out, Mama. It wasn't just Yvonne. All down the ward, they called for their mothers. ... I held onto Yvonne's hands, and I imagined my mother, seventeen years ago, giving birth to me. Did she call for her mother?...I thought of her mother, the one picture I had, the little I knew. Karin Thorvald, who may or may not have been a distant relation of King Olaf of Norway, classical actress and drunk, who could recite Shakespeare by heart while feeding the chickens and who drowned in the cow pond when my mother was thirteen. I couldn't imagine her calling out for anyone. But then I realized, they didn't mean their own mothers. Not those weak women, those victims. Drug addicts, shopaholics, cookie bakers. They didn't mean the women who let them down, who failed to help them into womanhood, women who let their boyfriends run a train on them. Bingers and purgers, women smiling into mirrors, women in girdles, women in barstools. Not those women with their complaints and their magazines, controlling women, women who asked, what's in it for me? Not the women who watched TV while they made dinner, women who dyed their hair blond behind closed doors trying to look twenty-three. They didn't mean the mothers washing dishes wishing they'd never married, the ones in the ER, saying they fell down the stairs, not the ones in prison saying loneliness is the human condition, get used to it. They wanted the real mother, the blood mother, the great womb, mother of a fierce compassion, a woman large enough to hold all the pain, to carry it away. What we needed was someone who bled, someone deep and rich as a field, a wide-hipped mother, awesome, immense, women like huge soft couches, mothers coursing with blood, mothers big enough, wide enough, for us to hide in, to sink down to the bottom of, mothers who would breathe for is when we could not breathe anymore, who would fight for us, who would kill for us, die for us. Yvonne was sitting up, holding her breath, eyes bulging out. It was the thing she should not do. "Breathe," I said in her ear. "Please, Yvonne, try." She tried to breathe, a couple of shallow inhalations, but it hurt too much. She flopped back on the narrow bed, too tired to go on. All she could do was grip my hand and cry. And I thought of the way the baby was linked to her, as she was linked to her mother, and her mother, all the way back, insider and inside, knit into a chain of disaster that brought her to this bed, this day. And not only her. I wondered what my own inheritance was going to be. "I wish I was dead," Yvonne said into the pillowcase with the flowers I'd brought from home. The baby came four hours later. A girl, born 5:32 PM.”

MotherChildbirthMothers And DaughtersBlood Mother
Book:White Oleander
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“When enough women realize that birth is a time of great opportunity to get in touch with their true power, and when they are willing to assume responsibility for this, we will reclaim the power of birth and help move technology where it belongs-in the service of birthing women, not their master.”

EnoughHelpingMovingOpportunityRealizingInspiringResponsibilityTechnologyWillingMastersBirthAssumingThought ProvokingPregnancyChildbirthGreat OpportunityGiving BirthTrue PowerBirthing
Author:Christiane Northrup
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