the uncouth: the hormonal

After every baby, a woman morphs into someone else entirely. 

Do not be surprised if her spiritual hair turns stark black as soot or red as molten steel. 

Do not be surprised if that hip she props the newest baby on causes her to feel unnaturally imbalanced so that in public places she follows sudden urges to slam her torso far to the side, trying to pop that crick out of her back. 

When she listens to music, it’s not like it used to be, making her sway and close her eyes all dreamy, but rather it’s an invisible crowbar, ripping open a teary fire-hydrant, sudden unrelated fears for your children. 

Instead of making a grocery list, she’ll note the things that could happen: spiders, amoebas, cancer, falling bridges, hippos and tigers (you know, escaped from the zoo), real pirates, whores, cannibals, and the worst – unbelief. Lives in a woman’s hands, they are mountains in her heart.

It seems a silly thing God asks them to do. Bear them, feed them, discipline them, teach them to love, and hand them over. Trade in the mountains for mustard seeds. 

Mary, no wonder we sing so many songs to you, bewildered as we are. 

About me


The Chains of Worry: About a Skinny Girl Who Wrote an Eating Disorder Book
October 24, 2012
on travel and time
January 26, 2010
only one is true
August 17, 2009
party dress
June 27, 2009
kingdom-first: on love and lust
April 13, 2009


Reply July 21, 2009

I"m all tripping over myself in sign of the cross thanks to the gifts bestowed .
You bless ...
and yet again,
I am humbled in my stumbling gibberish posts, thankful for the Light here. There.
Through you.

Jen@Balancing Beauty and Bedlam
Reply July 21, 2009

So true, my friend! The hip crick never goes away.

Oh, Mary, did you know.... ;)

Jen@Balancing Beauty and Bedlam’s last blog post..Barbie Cake: A Birthday Delight

Reply July 21, 2009

It was one of the first times I read your it as much now!

Reply July 21, 2009

My baby is bouncing around inside me; my other baby is playing in her room. I do change. I do worry now in ways I never worried. I love your poetic expression of thoughts that I think too. Sometimes, I miss me before my children. I am not the same. Strange sanctification, this motherhood...

Megan @ Hold it Up to the Light
Reply July 21, 2009

How do you do it? You put into words exactly the way I feel. Brilliant. True.

Megan @ Hold it Up to the Light’s last blog post..Not My Child!

Lora Lynn
Reply July 21, 2009

yep. that's it 'zactly.

Lora Lynn’s last blog post..Spaceman Sam

Reply July 21, 2009

"and the worst - unbelief."
You nailed it.

Jo@Mylestones’s last blog post..The White Elephant Gift

Reply July 21, 2009

I was just pondering about this thing today. The fear of having more babies, the fear of how awful the world is, the fear of them knowing pain and suffering - all of it is unbelief. You wrote it so well.

BlueCastle’s last blog post..I Need Your Help

Reply July 21, 2009

trading in mountains for mustard seeds. oh my Amber. I have no words after that.

emily’s last blog post..from messy to lovely

Reply July 21, 2009

Feeling the one within, watching the two already outside this body they called home... I felt every word you wrote! I too miss pieces of the girl I was before my boys, but feel like because of all they have taught and shown me about the true me, the nature of who I am... I feel like I am more me now than I ever was before. God bless these little creations we call children, and bless them for all that they open our eyes to in this life! (love love love to read here! it's so refreshing to my spirit!)

Laura’s last blog post..Update: July 9, 2009`

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