Kids and loss

Or more specifically, my kids and loss.

For me, it was never a question as to whether or not we would include our children in my pregnancy with Lucy. The bigs had been through my pregnancy with Sophia, and even though it had been 3 years they were still familiar with things. They helped me shop for cloth diapers, and dream over what wonderfulness we would create for our baby out of the various fabrics and yarns I purchased. They read her stories and felt her kick.

When Lucy died it never crossed my mind to not include them.
I don't regret this choice. If not including them in her death, somehow erasing her existence from their memories entirely and saving them the pain and the experience were an option I would not chose it. Even in my foggy state that first bit of time I was aware that this right here is a learning experience for us, for my kids. This is an opportunity to teach them about grief, and arm them with the tools needed to process it. To show them that it's possible to recover from something potentially life ending. As much as I want to shelter them from pain, I also realize no one is immune to loss, and eventually they will need these tools.

Ben and I sat with our children, in between the time we found out Lucy had died and we left for the hospital and told them. We told them sometimes something happens, and we don't know what or why, but Lucy died. We weren't going to get to bring her home and raise her after all. We told them to ask us questions if they wanted to, to talk to us, because even though it might make us sad it was okay.

They came to the hospital the next day. We gave them the option of seeing her, both the bigs opted not to, but I showed Kileah her head of black hair. Sophia saw her, I doubt she really remembers.

Ben and I were given a book, by the Share people, called "We were going to have a baby but we had an angel instead." We sat together and read it one night. I expected a happy "I'm so lucky to have an angel baby" ending, but alas this was not so. It was terribly depressing and sad. I hid it.

The day after I delivered Lucy I came home, and then the kids came home. Kileah didn't leave my side for a long time. Sophia wasn't completely sure what to think, but was armed with kisses and hugs. Kyler was a little more reserved, but was there. Just there, and in the weeks and months following he just knew when I needed him. He told me whenever I needed a hug or a kiss just to tell him.

I was worried about the kids and the funeral. Funerals can be so confusing. We sat down with them before hand and told them it was a group of people who love us and love Lucy coming to be sad together that she died. We talked about how lucky we are to have so many people that love us. We told them it was okay to be sad, and it was also okay not to be sad. I remember feeling tremendous guilt because I wasn't sad at my grandfather's funeral. I didn't want them feeling like their feelings where wrong in any way.

They have been completely present for the last 11 months. I haven't hidden my grief and sadness from them, nor has Ben. We have clung together, all 5 of us. We are stronger for it, in so many ways.

Just weeks after Lucy died school started, and as a first day of school project Kyler's teacher (4th grade) had them draw pictures of their families. Kyler brought home his picture, which included Lucy, flying above us. I hear him tell people he has 3 sisters. I have never once had to tell my children that Lucy is still their sister even though she died. They just know it.

Kileah makes up songs about Lucy, and draws pictures of her. My favorite picture is one she drew a few days after Lucy died, she has black hair and is wrapped up in a pink blanket. Just like she was in the hospital.

Sophia talks about Lucy the most, in such an innocent 4 year old way. One day out of nowhere she told me "I know that Lucy is in a treasure chest." After thinking about it I realized that yes her casket does look like a treasure chest. It's a very sweet comparison. Our little treasure.

At the risk of sounding conceited I am proud of our family. I am proud of how we have come through this together. I am proud of my children and their never ending love for each other, including their angel sister.

I'm certainly not saying that this is the best way for every family to handle the loss of a child, but for us it absolutely has been. I hope one day, when they're much older, to be able to have very honest conversations with my children about how much they have helped me. About how this experience affected and changed us. Although I have a feeling they already know how important they have been, and continue to be.