Quotes & Sayings About Baby's Heartbeat
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Top Baby's Heartbeat Quotes

The dagger pin is all I have left. It is comfort and pain, both, because it reminds me of all I've had, held, and had taken from me.
It is my pen, too. With it, I write my story, again and again, in the walls. So I don't forget. So it becomes real.
I think of: Conrad's hands, Rachel's dark hair, Lena's rosebud mouth, how when she was an infant, I used to sneak into her bedroom and hold her while she slept. Rachel never let me - from birth, she screamed, kicked, would have woken the household and the street.
But Lena lay still and warm in my arms, submerged in some secret dreamland.
And she was my secret: those nighttime hours, that twin heartbeat space, the darkness, the joy. — Lauren Oliver

And the way I loved her was like nothing else. This, I decided, was the love all other loves were measured against. They say girls look to marry their fathers, but I decided after having Maxie that we all, every one of us, were looking to marry our mothers. Sitting on the sofa with her wrapped in a soft blanket in my arms, I'd think, 'This baby has it so good.'
It just seemed that the love I'd been searching and hoping for all my life was what Maxie already had right now: two big arms and a lap, a warm blanket, the background music of a heartbeat and a pair of lungs, food at a moment's notice, sleep at every urge, and a person totally obsessed with her, whose every moment - waking or otherwise - was totally devoted to her comfort and care. Was that so much to ask for? — Katherine Center

There is no other closeness in human life like the closeness between a mother and her baby - chronologically, physically, and spiritually they are just a few heartbeats away from being the same person. — Susan Cheever

When you do take the home pregnancy test, it doesn't quite seem real. But when you see the baby and the heartbeat on the ultrasound, it's so incredible. — Danica McKellar

The women looked from one to the other, knowing what the men didn't know. We knew the heartbeat and interior graces, compensation for our own clumsiness; the beatitude as we renounced our bodies, our noble little parasites the higher calling. We knew, without saying, the watery rollover, tremor, seismic shudders, the steadiness of the baby's hiccups, the reliable stab from a kick to the kidney — Naomi Levy

What does our baby think of the cord sprouting
into the whoosh whoosh of my wife's heartbeat?
And does Ramon imagine the lines of seaweed
are kite strings stretching into a heaven of water?
I see Ramon and our baby looking up,
up where stretched-out skin, the roof of the world,
lets in the light of day, up where the sun
is a ballet of burning coins. The heart - a kite
like a bucking bronc straining to break into sky. — Vince Gotera

I dreamed you a field of running horses, Selah. For you, Bianca, a balloon the size of the sky, my body a kite you can throw into the air.Pull me by string and horse.Tell me everything won't end in death. That everything doesn't end with February. Dead wildflowers wrapped around a crying baby's throat.I've slowed my heartbeat to three beats a minute. I've redrawn the clouds into birds, a fox chasing them into the mountains.I'm going to move my hand today.I vomit ice cubes.There's a ghost next to me.Get up, Dad.(Light Boxes) — Shane Jones

Her little head rested against his undervest, and for the first time since he'd galloped at full speed out of Forestville, his heartbeat finally slowed to a steady rhythm. He lowered his head and, through the layers of wet garments, kissed Gretchen's head. Finally Sophie's cries came to a halt, replaced by her hungry gulps. Carl wished he could bend and press a kiss against the baby's soft head too. He loved them. He loved them just as if they were his own flesh and blood. The revelation sent a swell of emotion through his chest so strong it threatened to engulf him. And he loved Annalisa. Desperately. — Jody Hedlund

I love you," I whispered brokenly against his lips. Tears leaked out at the corners of my eyes. He pushed the hair off my face, clearing me for his view. Our noses touched, we were so close. His fingers trailed over my face, drying the tears from my cheeks as quickly as they fell.
"Don't cry, baby. I love you. I love you, Emerson." He pronounced the words slowly, like he was savoring them. Or maybe he just wanted me to absorb them. Maybe he wanted them to sink in so that I would feel them as clearly and completely as I felt his hands on my face, his lips against mine ... his heartbeat vibrating from his chest into my body.
So that I would believe in them. Believe in him.
And I did. I felt them. I believed in them.
I believed in us. — Sophie Jordan

Heartbeat, why do you skip when my baby's lips meet mine? — Buddy Holly

There are moments in life that contain instant knowledge.
The first time expectant parents hear their baby's heartbeat and realize the world into only about them anymore.
The moment when a runner can see the finish line and knows they're going to win.
The instant death is inevitable when your parachute doesn't open.
And the moment when you look into another person's eyes and know that tonight, or for a few hours, you're the only two people in the world.
Their eyes met. Their lips touched.
No more hedging or evading. She was ready to dance. — Vivian Lane

How fragile life was, how fleeting their days on earth, and how fickle was Death, claiming the young as often as the old, the healthy as often as the ailing, cruelly stealing away a baby's first breath, a mother's fading heartbeat. — Sharon Kay Penman

When I tell people this story, they assume the miracle I am referring to during that long-ago blizzard was the birth of a baby. True, that was astonishing. But that day I witnessed a greater wonder. As Christina held my hand and Ms. Mina held Mama's, there was a moment- one heartbeat, one breath- where all the differences in schooling and money and skin color evaporated like mirages in a desert. Where everyone was equal, and it was just one woman, helping another.
That miracle, I've spent thirty-nine years waiting to see again. — Jodi Picoult