Explaining miscarriage to small children
A week ago today I was looking forward to telling the children that we were expecting a new baby brother or sister for them in early September. We hadn’t told many people about the pregnancy as I was keen to find out that it wasn’t twins again before sharing the joyous news. We’d held off telling many people despite my all-day morning sickness and overwhelming fatigue since December and were really looking forward to telling our parents that they were going to be grandparents again and that this time it would be less arduous as (fingers crossed) only one bairn would be arriving.
I took the sickness to be a sign that everything was progressing as expected so had a really bad shock when the sonogrpher broke it to us at our 12-week scan that she was ‘afraid I don’t have good news for you’ and the little bean had expired the previous week without my body realising.
A whirlwind of hospital appointments and weeping followed and then I was home again to look after the twins and to tell my mum. I wasn’t going to say anything to the kiddies but then remembered that I have a general policy of not lying to them and telling them in straightforward language the ways of the world when they enquire.
Mo kept asking me if my tummy was better (we’d told him I’d gone to hospital so the doctor could take a look at it) and in the end I took a deep breath and explained that there had been a tiny baked bean sized baby growing in my stomach but that it had been poorly and had died. They both started crying claiming that they wanted a baaaaaby but 30 seconds later were fine and asking what was for tea.
It felt much much better being straightforward with them and if I’m ever pregnant again I’ve vowed not to hold off telling close friends and family (especially my mum) as they miss out on the exciting anticipation and besides its too much of a struggle coping with the first trimester in secret when all you want to do is go to bed with a bag of fizzy sweets.
Tiny Footprints on a Mother’s Heart
When a baby arrives,
be it for a day, a month, a year or more,
or perhaps only a sweet flickering moment-
the fragile spark of a tender soul
the secret swell of a new pregnancy
the goldfish flutter known to only you-
you are unmistakeningly changed…
the tiny footprints left behind on your heart
bespeak your name as Mother.
February 27th, 2007 at 2:15 pm
Think that you handled that one perfectly. Children know when there is a problem and trying to hide your sadness is not going to work. I think you’ve saved them alot of anxiety by being honest and reassuring them that you are a bit sad but will be ok.
Not an easy subject, especially when dealing with your own sadness too my darling xx
February 27th, 2007 at 3:53 pm
Sorry to hear that, i hope you get back on your feet soon.
I’ve always felt that it is easier to be open, because i always believed that if anything went wrong i’d need people to know so they could support me. That proved to me to be true, for me, last year when we had a series of difficult decisions and experiences over an early pregnancy. I couldn’t have got through without being open and receiving the love and care of those able to give it.
That said, i couldn’t have handled my kids’ sadness too, so i think you were very brave.
Best wishes.
February 28th, 2007 at 4:07 am
you are unbelievable! I think you are so intuitive with your kids that it would have been right for them however you chose to do it. Just make sure you go easy on the center parcs cycling and try and get into the spa!
much love,
lib
xxx
March 2nd, 2007 at 12:40 am
I think the truth is a good thing, but only when you are ready to hand it out. And for some ppl, that might not be ever.
Do be prepared for them to continue to deal with it in their own way - I thought that Small hadn’t really noticed what we were telling him back in November, but he’s just started telling ppl about his brother who died, so I assume something did sink in.
Big, on the other hand, just wants to know when we’re going to try again! (which was just as disconcerting in some ways).
March 5th, 2007 at 9:32 am
I am so sorry to hear about your miscarriage. It must be a difficult time for all of you. Children process information in an apparently simplistic way only to ask again about something you told them months ago. For example, this weekend we told Molly that my aunt’s dog had died and she loved that dog immensely. She was quiet about it and asked if my aunt’s dog was with her gran’s dog in doggie heaven (urgh! Philosphy questions before 9am). Then when we went over to cheer my aunt up she handed over a secret big of paper which was a drawing of the dog, my aunt and my uncle, all happy together, she said. Very sweet and goes to show she might not have said much about it but she was thinking about it all.
March 21st, 2007 at 1:44 pm
Do you think there is a conflict between your desire to be green, and to have more children?
e.g. see : http://observer.guardian.co.uk/comment/story/0,,2036598,00.html
David.