Talking to Kids About Death

Recently a child at our elementary school passed away.  In a local mom's group, there was a discussion about how to talk to our kids about it.  I thought I'd share my response with you all here.

My kids were 5 and 7 when our infant son passed away. Unfortunately, we had to deal with it suddenly and unexpectedly. Fortunately, I have gained much wisdom through this process.

1. Tell the truth. Don't sugarcoat it, don't use words like "passed away" or "is no longer with us". As hard as it is for us as an adult to say, you need to say "she got really sick, the doctors did everything they could to help her, and she died."
2. Depending on the maturity level of the child, they may still believe in magical thinking concepts. This means that they may not understand that death is permanent. Be prepared to discuss that she will not be able to be alive again.
3. Older or more emotionally mature children may be beginning to understand the concept that death is universal. It can be helpful to explain that everything dies. Nature is a perfect place to illustrate this concept. Especially in the fall, leaves are falling off and dying. You can relate it to a pet that has died as well. They will ask you if you will die too, or if they will die too. Please be honest with them! Tell them "yes, we will all die someday."
4. Although the concept of Heaven is fairly Universal, please remember that there are atheist families and telling them that God took their child or that the child is with Jesus can cause disagreements between kids. Please keep this in mind when you are explaining to your child. We used to tell our kids that every family gets to make their own rules on some things and that they have different names that they call things. Like our grandma is called Kiki, some people have different names for heaven.
5. If your child is a boy, don't assume that he's not grieving because he's not crying. Boys often express anger or act out rather than crying. Also, boys are more likely to open up and talk during side-by-side activity. Play cars with them, a video game, watch a baseball game. Don't try to sit knee to knee and talk about your feelings.

Although we all hope to not have these conversations, they are inevitable.  I hope that these guidelines are a help to you!

Life is short, another reminder

I learned yesterday that while the rest of us were celebrating the nation's birthday, a friend of ours was beginning the long journey of grief over losing his father. To compound the loss, it was at the hands of a criminal, who broke into his home and shot him with his own gun. While his wife was upstairs.

I'm confident there will be much speculation, commentary and debate on gun control, security, religion, and being "right with God". What I'd like to point out is that he was "Right with People". I went to his Facebook page and found this heartwarming, heartbreaking and encouraging interaction between he and a friend:

October 15th: Infant and Pregnancy Loss Remembrance Day

I had lunch with my son today.  I should have been sitting at a table of giggling 2nd graders.  They would have tried to impress me with their muscles and joke telling, and maybe tried to gross me out with some bugs or ABC food.  Instead, I stood at the foot of his grave.

It was overcast, the same way it was the day he died.  There was a cold-front coming in, and I could see dark clouds approaching.  As I walked towards the "babyland" I instantly resented the fake flowers everywhere.  I wished that I had thought in advance to get some, but then again coming here is always a last minute decision.  I never plan to visit.

To know where you're going, look where you've been...

This has been a really difficult season in our lives.  Well, a difficult few years.  Since Ian died, it seems like it's been "one thing after another".  Sometimes it's really hard to keep your head up, pull yourself up by your bootstraps, look on the bright side, keep truckin', chin up, remember all things happen for a reason, God doesn't give you more than you can handle.  Blah, blah, blah...

My trip to DPS to renew my license

My oldest niece is going to the DPS today to take her permit test.  I am going to the DPS to renew my license.  We are both girls (ahem, I still consider myself a girl) which means...

pictures

Which means...

makeup

and hair

and jewelry

and deciding what shirt you want to wear for the next 12 years.  (In your driver's license photo anyway)

When I was 15 & 16, getting my permit and then my license, this was great fun!  I spent the whole morning (of every day the week prior) thinking and planning.

Today, I am 38.  As I got out of the bathtub and started blowdrying my hair, it dawned on me...

Next time I have to do this will be when I turn fifty.

Wow.  My mom is 50 (not really, but in my mind she is)

Today, my oldest is 14.  When I renew next time my youngest will be 14.

Today my youngest is 2.  When I renew next time, my oldest will be 26.

Today I have 5 children.  When I renew next time I might be a grandmother.

As I think back to the last time I renewed my license, I realize what an entirely different person I am today.  

Last time, I was 26.

I was pregnant with my 2nd child.

Not only CT mourns

"While you are remembering the children of CT, remember too the families of the nearly 10,000 children who died this year from other causes, and the 10,000 that died last year, and the year before that. If you look around you, you will find families who are grieving the loss of a child, and while it might not be as concentrated and violent as the CT tragedy, it is just as real and painful to them." 

This was my Facebook post today, on the day that our nation has taken time out to memorialize the children and adults lost in the Sandy Hook Elementary / Newton, CT mass shooting last week.  Almost instantly, friends "liked" and commented, and shared.  You see, I am one of those bereaved parents.

6 years ago, we faced the unimaginable things that the families in Connecticut have faced this week.  Choosing a casket for your child (they are so tiny; it breaks your heart a thousand times again).  Choosing what to wear to your child's funeral ("I don't want to wear black, it's not appropriate for children, but I don't want people to think that I'm not grieving either").  Going home empty handed (How can I go back home without my child, but how can I be anywhere that they weren't?) Finding the lost shoe, the "baby's first Christmas" items that are no longer needed, the first "family photo" with an incomplete family.

2007 - our first "family photo" without Ian.  Preparing for it was  very traumatic.  We  probably wouldn't have gone if it weren't for the fact that it was for our church directory.

Face the fear

Today a fellow bereaved mom, still fresh in her grief posted about holding a baby for the first time since her son passed away.  She shared her fears and why she didn't want to hold another baby.  She finished by saying: 

"just know that when you are faced with holding a baby again the sweet innocence they share with you in your moment does help heal a small part of you"

My first time to hold a baby after Ian's death was also healing.  It was only about 2 weeks after Ian passed away.  The niece of a close friend was born the day before Ian - she came to visit while I was there at my friend's house.  My friend asked if I could hold her while they brought some things in from the car.

She was fussy and as soon as I took her into my arms, she quieted down.  I held her close to me and closed my eyes - but only for a moment... it was too easy to pretend that she was Ian.  The mom came in and wondered aloud how I got her to calm down and my friend said "she's a mom with experience!" and then it dawned on everyone how hard it must be for me - I saw it in their eyes.  I looked down at the baby girl and gave her her bottle, then handed her back to mom.  

It was a terrible and blessed experience.  Cathartic, I believe is what they call it.  

It is only through facing our fears and the toughest moments of life, then living to tell about it, that we grow into ourselves.

Capture Your Grief Day 15: Wave of Light

7:15 PM CDT, Little Elm, TX, USA

Today, October 15th, is a day set aside to remember babies gone too soon.  

To honor mothers, fathers, grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, brothers and sisters that have said the ultimate goodbye to someone very dear.  

To proclaim to the world that though their time was short, their impact is immeasurable.  

To spread awareness.

To say the name... 

Ian Wesley Giger

CarlyMarie Project Heal | Capture Your Grief this October 2012 for Pregnancy & Infant Loss Awareness Month:

Capture Your Grief Day 10: Symbol

Sweet Pea - the theme for his nursery and our nickname for him.

(this image available at bambinoboutique.com)

CarlyMarie Project Heal | Capture Your Grief this October 2012 for Pregnancy & Infant Loss Awareness Month:

Capture Your Grief Day 9: Special Place

CarlyMarie Project Heal | Capture Your Grief this October 2012 for Pregnancy & Infant Loss Awareness Month:

Capture Your Grief Day 8: Jewelry

From Wendy Layne

Capture Your Grief Day 7: What to Say

"Give yourself permission to feel what you feel.  There is no right or wrong or timeline to grief.  It is as individual as you are."

(a compilation of several sentiments that I grasped onto and have repeated often.)

Capture Your Grief Day 6: What Not To Say

I can't tell you how many times people have tried to empathize by comparing my loss to their loss of a pet.

PETS ARE NOT PEOPLE.  

I don't care how much you "love" your cat/dog/parakeet/hamster/horse, it is not the same as carrying a child for 9 months, holding them in your arms almost every minute for 3 months and then watching them die.  Dealing with bereaved siblings who wonder "am I still a big sister", blaming yourself, questioning the very existence of God - it's not the same. 

Capture Your Grief Day 5: Memorial

His grave marker

The sign in our front yard

My husband's tattoo of Ian's footprints from the day he died.

Capture Your Grief Day 4: Treasured Item

When we were at the hospital with Ian, on the evening of the 2nd day, the doctors told us that he was not going to recover. They explained the physical process to us, and the fact that if he did not pass away over night, we would have to consider removing life support.  We were told that he had no brain function, no purposeful movement (except for two toes on one foot) and that breathing was the last bodily function to stop working.

He was breathing a little over the respirator, sometimes.  If we did not choose to remove life support soon, and he continued breathing over the respirator, the alternative was to remove the feeding tube.  We were told that it can take up to two weeks to basically starve to death.

What choice is there when all three choices are horrible?  We had just been told that our son would die.

This is the setting for the most painful thing that was said to us.  The chaplain came to the room to check on us, and asked if there was anything she could do for us.  I tearfully told her that I would like to get his foot and hand prints.  I told her that if she could find an ink pad and some paper that we would appreciate it.  What was said next echoed in my mind for days: "Oh, that's in the 'death kit' I'll go ahead and bring one up."

The death kit?  It is actually a lovely handmade paper keepsake box with dried flowers and leaves.  It has a dark green satin ribbon to tie the top closed.  Inside is a place for a photo and the paper and ink pad.  I use it for my mementos of Ian, but I still hear "death kit" every time I look at it.

The death kit sat on the counter of the nurses station for several hours, until one kind nurse moved it after hearing what was said to us.  It was that same nurse who was present when he passed away - she was supposed to be off, but traded with someone so she could be with us. 

After Ian passed, the room emptied and William and I were alone with our son.  The nurse came in and was so gentle as she took his prints for us - she did not treat him like a "body", she treated him as though he were asleep and she didn't want to wake him.  We cried as she handed the paper to us, instinctively realizing that it was all we had left.

This is my most treasured item of Ian.

text of the card next to the photo:

Grow Little Flower – Author Unknown

Grow, little flower
reach for the light,
your sweet little spirit
forever will bloom.

Glow, little star,
tucked into the heavens,
cradled with care
in the curve of the moon.

Blow, little leaf,
to a beautiful someplace
safe in the sheltering
arms of a breeze-

Know, little one,
that you’ll always be with us…
forever held close
in our love’s memories.

Capture Your Grief Day 3: After Loss Self Portrait

2007 - the realization that I was not in any of the photos we had of Ian, outside of the hospital (birth and death) prompted me to be less concerned with how I looked in pictures.  It was more important to capture the moments, while we had them.

2008 - It also became very important to get "family pictures" since we didn't really get that chance with Ian.  Snapshots and professional

2009 - Family portrait.  This is the best of the session - my favorite though includes a large framed portrait of Ian

CarlyMarie Project Heal | Capture Your Grief this October 2012 for Pregnancy & Infant Loss Awareness Month:

'via Blog this'

Capture Your Grief Day 2: Before Loss Self Portrait

2006, Pursuing my dream of being a full-time Wedding and Event Planner.  This is the day that I joined the Chamber of Commerce in Little Elm, TX

CarlyMarie Project Heal | Capture Your Grief this October 2012 for Pregnancy & Infant Loss Awareness Month:

'via Blog this'

My Sunday Weakness

I love Sundays!  I got to participate in worship this morning at The Crossing Church, followed by a great message on parenting by Dr. Garland Ownesby

His message came from Joshua chapter 1 - where God tells Joshua repeatedly "Be strong and courageous".  This scripture has come up over and over again in the last few months.

I am tired.  I am tired of being strong.  I am tired of being brave.  I am tired of being... I am just tired of BEING.

Source: mehimandthecats.blogspot.com via Noel on Pinterest

Diabetic Alert Dogs

I had no idea that there were dogs trained to smell glucose levels. Last year, my friend’s 14 year old daughter, Sarah, forgot to take her blood sugar reading before bed. She never woke up. A dog like this could have saved her life. If I had known about it, I would have done all I could to provide one for her!

Now, I’ve decided to share the word and help other families raise money. As a bereaved parent (I lost my 3 month old son to SIDS in 2006) I know first-hand the heartache of losing a child. If its in my reach to do something to help – I will!

http://www.noelgiger.jamberrynails.net 

On the road to healing...

We've just left for a wonderful weekend of restoration and healing at Camp Sol.

If you know of a family in the DFW-area that has lost a child and still has kids at home - please pass this to them!  Camp Sol has been an integral part of our family's healing process.  It is so rewarding to go now and help other families while remembering our son, Ian.