The Sound of Love

There’s a journal sitting on the table next to my bed. There’s also one sitting on the table next to the rocking chair in Edison’s room. I have one to write my thoughts and feelings through my pregnancy and the other to journal through the first few months and years of Edison’s life.

Would you be surprised if I told you they were both empty?

Maybe someday I’ll regret not writing more during my pregnancy and this time as a new mom, but right now all the inspiring thoughts I can get out of my pen go in Edison’s baby book . . . and most of the rest of my thoughts, before he was born, weren’t that inspiring.

For some reason I just can’t write about how awful I felt trying to sleep every night in my bed with my every craving available in my refrigerator downstairs, or at the very least, at the neighborhood grocery store. I seriously don’t even want to try to remember the number of nights I tried to sleep in a sitting-up position in a soft comfy chair because my nose was so stuffed up I couldn’t breathe — and I didn’t even have a cold. As much as I want to complain, and probably did at the time, I know I really had it easy.

And the stuff I want to remember . . . like how cool it was to feel him kicking around inside me and how it is just a little freaky and amazing that God can even do such a miracle in me . . . would be really hard to “get” from words on a page. Right now, I remember these things every time I look at my son’s face and see that he is growing right before my eyes.

So, who am I to regret not doing something so indulgent as writing all this stuff down when most of the new mothers around the world can’t even read, let alone write their own name? Many of these women wouldn’t even believe that their words counted or their thoughts mattered. And I wonder, is it possible to raise a child with self esteem if you don’t have it yourself?

And really, how am I so different from them anyway? Don’t all mothers everywhere want the same things for their children? I still remember the first time Edison smiled at me on purpose. Now I even get to hear him laugh. Can you imagine not hearing your child laugh?

Help Families Affected BY COVID-19

Families in poverty have no safety net in times of crisis. Help provide food, medical care and support during this pandemic.

Child Survival Program multiplies the amazing sound of laugher around the world. It is the sound of health, it is the sound of life, it is the sound of Love . . . the kind Jesus was known for.

5 Comments |Add a comment

  1. Avatar
    Lisa Miles July 31, 2008

    Vicki, you’re so sweet. I actually feel the same way about you!

    In fact, I just appreciate everyone who posts on this blog.

  2. Avatar
    Vicki Small July 26, 2008

    Lisa, I don’t know how old you are or how much formal education you’ve had, but you always bring such a rich perspective to your comments! Like the wise woman of the village, or something! (Notice I did not say, “wise *old* woman!)

    I agree about the CSP. It is one more program that makes Compassion’s overall ministry so utterly unique and far-reaching. I wish there were a CSP project attached to every CDSP project we have; some day, perhaps!

  3. Avatar
    Lisa Miles July 25, 2008

    Gayle, I love this post! First off, Edison is the absolute cutest baby name ever.

    Second, I can’t emphasize enough how important I think the Child Survival Program is.

    That time in the womb and the first year of life is so crucial for a child’s future health and well-being. If an infant is malnourished, there are cognitive, developmental, and physiological delays that can effect a child the rest of their life.

    A malnourished infant has a compromised immune system that mimics a person with AIDS. A starving infant’s body has an incredibly difficult time fighting off disease of any kind.

    To everyone in blogland: the Child Survival Program is such a worthwhile program. If you love babies — if you care about moms — make this program your mission!

  4. Avatar
    Compassion dave July 24, 2008


    It’s kind of like (forgive me in advance) stepping in dog poop. After having made the mis-step, you sit on the curb and find a suitable stick to scrape it off.

    Regret is when you take that stick and shove it into your back pocket so you can be reminded of the event all day long.

    We all need to remember to leave the stick behind (no pun intended).

    God bless.

  5. Avatar
    Juli Jarvis July 24, 2008

    Very well said! I have visited a few CSP’s and they’re awesome! I remember some things about our childrens’ infancies (now in their twenties) like it was yesterday! While we were at a CSP in Haiti, the Doctor happened to stop by. She said that the CSP is like a “red flag” for the community–if a contagious disease is found in the CSP, they will go out and immunize every child in the community. That got me to thinking about how far-reaching Compassion’s ministry really is.

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