Quotes About Pregnancy

After being forced to go to rogue wolf territory to exchange my mate's kidnapped childhood sweetheart while three months pregnant, I was tortured to death. Before my death, my eight-year-old daughter begged her father three times. The first time, my daughter took her father's hand and said, "Daddy, mommy is pregnant with my little brother. She can't go to the rogue territory." The alpha wolf let out a cold laugh: "How dare your mother teach a pup to lie." Then he had his beta guards drive my daughter out of the pack house. The second time, my daughter grabbed his sleeve and told him the rogue wolves were torturing me with silver. The alpha frowned: "These rogues were hired by your mother to kidnap Willow. How could she really be tortured?" The guards stepped forward and once again pulled my daughter out of the room. The third time, my daughter lay on the floor, desperately clutching his pant leg, crying that I was dying in the rogue wolf territory. The alpha finally lost his temper. He slapped her away with force. "I told you, Ava won't die. She's strong. If you come running back here to disturb Willow's rest again, I'll definitely throw both of you out of the pack territory." To save me, my daughter gave her most precious possession to the most powerful warrior in the pack—the healing gemstone I had given her for her birthday. "Please, can you use this to help save my mother? I don't need protection anymore. I just want my mother to live." The warrior took her healing gemstone, but before he could leave to rescue me, Willow stepped in his way. "Sorry, little pup," she smirked. "The warrior needs to stay here to protect my dog. Your father was afraid I would be sad if anything happened to my pet."

I was six months pregnant when my husband's childhood sweetheart showed up on Christmas Eve, pregnant too, demanding her place in his life. Smiling, I welcomed her in. "Come on in. Make yourself at home." In my previous life, I had forced my husband to kick Shirley out. She collapsed from low blood sugar and froze to death that very Christmas Eve. Matthew did not hold it against me. On the contrary, he softened, stayed by my side and took care of me while I waited to give birth. However, when the baby came, despite being an obstetrician himself, Matthew sent our healthy newborn son straight to the morgue. I begged him desperately, but his face was twisted with hatred. "If you hadn't been so petty and dramatic, Shirley wouldn't have died along with her baby!" "You're heartbroken over your son? Then go freeze to death too. Pay for Shirley’s life with your own life." Just like that, I opened my eyes again, back to the moment Shirley arrived on Christmas Eve.

My bestie Kenna and I were the fated mates of the two most powerful Alpha brothers in the Dark Moon pack. I was mated to the Head Alpha, Cade. Kenna was mated to his brother, Rhys. On our mating anniversary, a bloody package reeking of Rogues arrived. It was from Cade’s childhood friend, Lilah. The feral scent shocked my body into premature labor. Kenna rushed me to the pack’s private medical center. But the labor triggered a fatal condition: “Moon Eclipse Sickness.” My life force was draining away. With my last bit of strength, I used our mind-link to beg my Alpha for help. His furious voice was my only answer. “You’re faking this just because I missed our anniversary? Lilah’s rare silver hound is giving birth, and it’s dangerous. Don’t cause trouble for me now!” In the end, it was Kenna who drained her own wolf’s spirit to save me. I barely survived. But the pup I delivered was rushed to emergency care, too weak from my fading life force. Her eyes bloodshot, Kenna contacted her mate, Rhys. She begged him for "Moonflower Dew"—a serum from his own company that could save our baby. "Lilah's hound is weak after giving birth. I’m busy making a special formula for it. You and Evelyn are two of a kind. Always stirring up trouble. First her drama, now yours." My pup died. And my heart shattered with him. “Kenna, I’m rejecting my mate bond with Cade.” “If you reject him, I reject mine. Traitors don’t deserve mates.” But when we told the Alpha brothers we were rejecting them, they felt a panic they had never known.

After dying suddenly from overwork, I found myself transmigrated into the life of a fake heiress who had been cast out of her wealthy family. While the real heiress reclaimed the life that had once been mine, I decided to leave the drama behind. Armed with my savings, I embraced a carefree lifestyle, swapping boyfriends every three days and living for the moment. Then, two months later, life hit me with a curveball—I discovered I was pregnant. The problem? I had no idea who the father was. With no choice, I approached the three powerful CEOs I had been involved with, each more arrogant and competitive than the last. What followed was a 10-billion-dollar bet by each of the three over who the father might be, with me caught in the middle. "I bet the baby belongs to all three of you," I teased, only for them to roll their eyes and dismiss me as ridiculous. Even so, when I gave birth to triplets, their argument outside the delivery room went viral, sending the internet into a frenzy and turning my life—and theirs—into a spectacle.

I was trapped in a sea filled with icebergs, clinging to life alongside Elsa —the sweetheart of my mate, Alpha Luke, and her son. After a long hesitation, Luke chose to save me, the one carrying his unborn twins. After he brought me to shore, there wasn’t enough time for him to go back for Elsa. All he could do was watch her drift away, swallowed by the freezing waves, until she disappeared from sight. He never forgave me for it. He said I delayed him—that if not for me, he could have saved her. For five long years, he hated me. He wouldn't even let my twin pups call him “father.” Then came the day the witch brewed a time machine that could turn back time. Luke gave up everything—his title, his pride, even his sons—just for the chance to go back. “Aria,” he said before leaving, “did you really think I saved you because I cared? If I hadn’t saved you first, the whole pack would’ve blamed Elsa. That’s the only reason.” After he was gone, his mother looked at me with eyes full of disdain. “This is all your fault,” she said. “If Luke had saved Elsa first, he might’ve been happy now.” Even my own children resented me. “You're the reason Father hates us,” they said. “You're the one who killed Elsa. Why couldn’t it have been you who died that day?” Despised by everyone, I drank the potion without a second thought. This time, I would go back. This time, I would save myself. And I would owe Luke nothing.

My husband Bruno's goomah was pregnant with their second child. At the family dinner, he caressed his lover Ava's rounded belly. "This one will be a boy, the future heir to the Marino family. As my wife, it is your duty to raise him." This was the second time he had openly acknowledged one of his bastards. I didn't make a scene like I had before. I just calmly lifted my head and looked Bruno straight in the eye. Raucous laughter erupted from the family members around the table. "Remember last time, when she acted like a madwoman? Looks like she's finally learned her place." "The Rossi family's businesses have all been carved up. What can she do besides be an infertile trophy wife? She'll be kicked to the curb sooner or later." Bruno's face was expressionless, allowing them to hurl their insults at me. I fought back the tears burning my eyes and even managed a small smile. "Bruno, let's get a divorce." Bruno looked as if he'd heard the funniest joke in the world, his lips curling into a dismissive smirk. "Liliana, if you can come up with the hundred million dollars you owe this family, I'll sign the papers right now. Otherwise, stop making a scene." I didn't argue, and just dialed an encrypted number. "I accept the terms we discussed." A lazy laugh echoed from the other end of the line. "A hundred million? Merely the cost of a port. I can have it for you anytime, my princess."

My husband’s first love had a miscarriage. He insisted that it was my doing and forced me to give my daughter up. “If it weren’t for you, Becky wouldn’t have a miscarriage! You should let her have your baby! You must pay for her pain of losing her baby!” I begged for mercy and resisted him. However, he grabbed my hair and kicked my belly even though I had just delivered my baby. He tied me up and locked me up in the basement for fear that I might run away. But I was dying. He even made a nice excuse. “You’re petty and jealous. You harmed Becky too. Since you feel no remorse, I’ll punish you and lock you up in the basement to reflect on your mistakes!” Seven days later, his first love found the baby too noisy and got annoyed by the baby. Suddenly, he thought of me. “Let her have the baby. And see if she’s behaving herself.” Little did he know that I was rotting in the basement with maggots eating away at my body.

Two weeks before my wedding to Alexander Hayes, he invites his friends over to our small home. During dinner, Alexander keeps groping me, whether intentionally or not. After they finish eating, I overhear their conversation as I clear the dishes and walk past the study. "Alex, Lydia's quite something. I touched her earlier, and her skin's so soft. She nearly pulled my soul out. "If you don't mind, let us guys have some fun with her once she pays off the debt for you. We'll help you cover the cost of whatever Kay wants." Alexander chuckles softly, his voice casual and careless. "Sure, I don't mind. I've been sleeping with her for so long, I'm already sick of her anyway. "Just make sure she doesn't rat us out to my grandpa... Actually, forget it. She's blind anyway, so she won't figure it out." For two years, I've devoted myself completely to taking care of Alexander, yet he's ready to throw me into other men's beds, using my body to settle his debts. I stand silently at the doorway, feeling absolutely nothing. Of course, I know that someone else has been replacing him for a year. The person who holds me close night after night isn't him, and the child in my belly isn't his either.

Connor Lockwood abandons me at the hospital's entrance even though I'm bleeding in the middle of my pregnancy. He insists on sending his client, a divorcée, home. The blood flows down my legs, but he hurries off without another look back. He should've been at the hospital and by my side, but instead, I see him in his client's social media update. It's captioned, "Thank goodness for my wonderful lawyer. Do you know who gets to have hangover soup when they're drunk? Me!" I spend the rest of the night wide awake. The following morning, I calmly dial a number. "Dad, I've made up my mind. I'll return home in three days to take over the company."

After four years of marriage, James Lawson, who had never posted anything on social media, unexpectedly updated his status: "What an adorable little foodie!" The attached photo showed a young woman wearing pink cat ears, eating at a Korean BBQ restaurant. Her cheeks were flushed red from the spicy food as she stuck out her tongue. It was Sophie Jones, a new content creator at his company. Within a minute, our mutual friend commented: "Dude, you forgot to switch accounts!" Just like that, James's new post disappeared as quickly as it had appeared, only to show up moments later on Sophie's feed. Then James's name lit up my phone screen. In the past, I would have already taken screenshots and called him first to confront him. It would have inevitably ended in a heated argument. But this time, I calmly watched his call go to voicemail without answering.