Why You Shouldn’t Protect Your Kids From Death

Guest Post By Kate Polley

We have just returned from a great family break on the coast. Toward the end of the holiday, walking hand in hand along the beach with Finn, my four-year-old surviving twin son, he turned to me unexpectedly and said: “Mom, I miss my brother, Sam. I feel lonely without him and sad that he does not live with us.”

I caught my breath and squeezed his precious little hand in mine. This was the first time in which Finn had expressed a longing for, rather than just a passing, curious interest in his twin.

I knelt in front of him and told him that I felt sad too. I reminded him that Sam ‘lives’ all around us – in the sand and the wind and the sea. I echoed the sentiments I had used in the book which I had written a few years ago, in an attempt to explain Sam’s physical absence to our children.

The moment between Finn and I passed as quickly as it had begun and he raced ahead to join his siblings at the lagoon.

It has always been important to me that our children are aware of their brother’s short life and as such, I have made a conscious and sometimes painful effort, from the start to answer and discuss any questions they have had about his death, as openly and honestly as I can.

That day on the beach my aching heart sang a little. Whilst I will never be able to give Finn back the thing I imagine he’d value most – his twin brother – I have, through my willingness to discuss death, given him the ability to comfortably express his feelings about Sam. (This is a skill, I have learned from personal experience, many adults sorely lack.)

Reflecting on our conversation, I was reminded of an online article I had read recently on a closed baby loss forum, debating the merits of disclosing early sibling loss to other children in the family. I remember being surprised by some of the opinions expressed, particularly by those who had lost a baby in the first year of life. Seemingly, many parents feel the need to ‘protect’ their living children by not mentioning death, nor the child who had died, to their other children at all.

When Sam died twelve hours after birth, we were shocked, devastated and traumatised, all rolled up into one messy tangle of grief.

My daughters, aged five and seven at the time, were confused and sad. For a few days, they grilled us relentlessly with questions, ranging from practical to the obscure. We spoke about what had happened until they were satisfied. Then, content with the answers we had provided, they simply moved on. They resumed their daily routine, giggled and played as if nothing had happened at all.

I remember at the time, thinking it was all rather callous. Children, I have learned since, have a particularly egotistical view on life.

Mothering children after loss has taught me a valuable lesson –  you can’t protect children from death, no matter how inconvenient or uncomfortable the topic may seem. Someone, sometime, close to them will die. Be honest and upfront regarding your feelings around death and by doing so, equip your children with the skills they need in order to view death as a part of the fabric of a beautiful thing – Life.

In remembrance of her son Sam, and to recognize October with us as Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness month, Kate has generously offered to give one of our readers a personalized book.  To have a chance to be chosen, simply leave a comment as to who you would like to have a book about the Story Of…for extra entries, please go to Kate’s Facebook page, like it, and leave a comment there as well!  A winner will be drawn on October 18th, 2015.

A note from Kate…

Sam and Finn was originally written for my surviving twin son, Finn, to help him understand about the loss of his brother, Sam, who passed away unexpectedly shortly after birth.

After receiving enormous support within the baby-loss community, the book was published and distributed to families all over the world. From there, the demand for the book spread and the requests for a non-twin specific version of the book, personalised with a family’s own child’s name was overwhelming.  Together with the encouragement and support from my UK based publishing company, Oodlebooks, my dream of providing a resource to all bereaved families, irrespective of their circumstances, was realised.

By sharing Sam’s message as a personalised book, my hope is that each book will provide some peace and comfort to families who are living without their child.

You can order a copy of the book by visiting www.personalisedchildlossbook.com.

You can also follow us on www.facebook.com/samandfinn.com

Kate Polley lives in Cape Town, South Africa, with her husband Peter and four living children, Hannah (13), Erin (11), Finn (4) and Jude (3)