Can I have a Do-Over?

As parents, bereaved parents, we need to take time and appreciate that we are doing a good job.  Heck some days I am doing a great job.  Other days I just want a do-over; reset and let me try that one again.
At a recent busy sporting event I had my oldest with me for the entire day and it was nice to have time devoted to Mom and Biggest kid.  After the event we were invited back to another family's house and my son wanted to go, so we did.  There were about 5 teenage athletes that came back with us and hung out in another part of the house while I was having tea with the mom getting to know one another.  It wasn't long before there were six teenagers were hanging out in the kitchen with us - possibly scavenging for food but in the vicinity nonetheless.  The other mom was commenting on the age gap between my boys, asking all of their ages specifically.  Before I could answer the Biggest replied "We have another brother but we lost him."
The 5 other teenagers stopped chatting and the mother asked him what he said (kindly) and all I could think was did the air just get sucked out of the room?

My Biggest said again "We had another brother, Flynn, he was three years younger then me and we lost him."  I corrected him - it was all I could do - "Honey you are correct and he died, shortly after he was born."  The mother was sympathetic, if not completely thrown for a loop. The teenagers were fascinated, the Biggest continued to chat about his brother as they headed back downstairs and I was left feeling exposed,like my secret identity had been revealed.
I have learned that talking about Flynn is easier for me if I feel ready and prepared for the conversation. It is a very intentional act and something that I do not bring into casual relationships.  I guess some would call it guarded.  My Biggest charges into this discussion with a different perspective and understanding of his relationship to his brother.

When we left the house I talked to the Biggest about bringing up Flynn.  I started by letting him know that it was okay to talk about Flynn but that saying things like "we lost him" is confusing when in actuality he died.  I tried to help him see how vocabulary can change the intent of the message. Then I asked him why he brought up Flynn and although I meant it out of curiousity, a part of it was due to my own discomfort.
"He is my brother and if people want to know me they will know about him. I always tell people about him, usually right away."
"Well buddy it is just a very vulnerable aspect of who you are and I worry about you sharing that with people too soon." Even now as a type this I wonder, did I really say that and yep I did.
"I want people to know about him; he was a human being too you know?"
I stopped.  It really was that simple, wasn't it.  Here I was complicating it, caving into societal expectations and definitions of life, death and the value associated with both. Here was my man-child simplifying it down to the root - a place I rarely touched anymore and sadly he thought I didn't realize how human Flynn is.
"That he was, a very special one too."
Where is that parent Do-over button when you need it?

Our First Christmas

In an earlier post on handling the holidays, there was advice on how to take care during this particularly stressful season. Although I believe the list of coping strategies, they were not all authentically mine. I wanted to take this opportunity to post how I coped with the holidays, the first year after Flynn's death.
Flynn was born in May and by the time December came around I believed I was coping with his death and could handle this family- oriented time of year. We had Rhys at home after all and he was three and a half, needing our undivided attention and fully aware of the promise of presents that this season brings.
As I began to prepare for the holidays, with decorations and festivities it became evident to me that something did not feel right. I did not know how to feel happy when we did not have Flynn with us; the year prior on Boxing Day was when we found out that we were pregnant with him, that along with pregnant family and friends surrounding us, the holidays were beginning to feel unbearable.
Our family no longer talked about Flynn; in fact I felt like I discussed him too much as discomfort crossed the face of my loved ones. Although Flynn lived for only a short time; the previous year during my pregnancy with him was how I landmarked my life. The only way to bring up an event was to position it in relation to my pregnancy or his death. I felt that any conversation with me must be depressing and therefore I did not say much, the holiday events became a source of anxiety as I struggled with how to politely smile and nod through conversations without creating despair.
I soon recognized that I could not make Flynn a part of the larger family holiday, I needed to make him a part of our small family's traditions and I went about figuring how to do that.
We have a custom in our family, we get an ornament for our tree when a child is born and I decided that Flynn needed one for our tree. I went about the difficult task of finding one that had meaning, was hopeful but not whimsically proclaiming "Baby's First Christmas!" I did not find anything and when I felt defeated and like it was an impossible task I received the Willow Tree "Angel of Comfort" from my aunt. It was not meant to be an ornament for a tree but when I got it, I knew that was exactly what it would be for our family. I wrote Flynn's name and birth date on the bottom of the figurine and hung it on the tree. I also bought one for my parent's and my husband's parents for their trees.
After finding the ornament I truly believed I would find some peace during the holidays but I did not, in fact I was feeling swallowed, isolated and depressed by my grief. What I really wanted was to be buying gifts for our son, hanging a stocking with his name on it, waking him to find gifts under the tree that his older brother would open for him. I did not know how to reconcile his death and the holidays.
At work they were having a toy drive for children in need, I had not been paying attention and then a friend asked me if I was going to donate to the Angel Tree? I was not sure that I heard her correctly, the Angel Tree? It turns out that was the name of the campaign and you could pick an angel off of the tree with a child's gender and age and buy an appropriate toy.
I went to the tree and the very first angel that I took off said "Boy, age 0" and that is when I knew that this was how I would honour Flynn during the holidays.
Since that holiday seven years ago, this tradition has evolved to include a toy for boys the same ages as ALL my boys and I involve the whole family in picking the gifts. For me it is the way to make meaning of a difficult time of the year and give to families who need a little help believing in the season just as I did the first year after Flynn's death.
I honour Flynn with a gift for a child in need and in turn it makes the holidays meaningful for my family in Flynn's memory.

Rest in Peace Frosty

I drove into my driveway after work last week, grabbed my things from the van and walked to the end of the drive to gather our recycling bins. It was there that I was met by an interesting sight. At the end of my driveway, as the picture shows, was a snowy grave built by Ash and Rhys.
While "most" children are building Frosty, his wife and children; my children have built a homage to his inevitable death.
This made me reflect on how capable I am of keeping my work at work? I know that I never talk about my families that I support at the kitchen table or at all really (I am not adverse to discussing death with the boys, I just happen not to discuss work).
It turns out that whether I talk about it or not, my boys know that death is a part of our family, what I do, who they are, and although the neighbours may be uncomfortable with Frosty's resting place out front, my children are quite comfortable, even proud of their creative creation and honestly so am I.

The End of Baby Days Dilema

Kinley is going to be two in November. When he was born Landy and I had the discussion of whether or not he was our last child. We both decided that we would wait until Kinley turned one to make a decision. When Kinley turned one, neither of us were ready to make that choice. I was not ready to be pregnant again but I was not convinced that we were finished having children. Landy on the other hand said he was not sure he wanted any more children but the mention of vasectomy turned him green in the gills. He said that he was not set against another child and that he had been done having children after Rhys and absolutely done after Flynn (Thanks Land!).
I have always wanted a large family, I don't know if I ever defined what large was, but I knew it was more than two children. Being at family Christmas where there is six boys always seemed comforting and such a blessing and although I do not intend on having six children I do believe that one more child would bless this family and complete this house.

When I have talked about children and having babies with my girlfriends everyone of them said that they knew when they were done, when they were ready to hang up the pregnancy days and concentrate on growing those babies into children. I have not had that feeling, that "this is it" moment. Of course maybe I am naive and that moment does not come for everybody, I do not intend to continue to have children indefinitely. I understand the financial responsibility, overpopulation and the affect on the family dynamic. I think my baby days are numbered. Frankly it makes me very sad. I am not even convinced that I need to have another pregnancy, the thought of adopting has been one that I have been considering as of late as well. I love my children, we have the space and the love to provide a family to a child.
I am also quite aware that this may just be the hole that was left after Flynn died, the fourth child that we do not get to hold again. I realize that if he were here we would be done having children.
I have a time line in my head. A length of time that if it passes and we have not had another baby then we are finished and the decision has biologically been made for us or an adoption is out of the question. I just wish that I had that internal moment, like my girlfriends when I look at my family and know that there are no more children.
Landy has left the decision in my hands (again thanks Land) and if I felt it were completely up to me, I know that I would want to have another child biological or adopted. I guess I need to give this one more time, to work itself out. I envy my friends who just know.

Lets Talk about Sex Baby

Thanks Salt-N-Peppa for the song that inspired conversation!

I have been looking for an opportunity to discuss sex with Rhys (our ten year old) and this weekend the moment arrived.

In April Landy and I attended a seminar on "How to talk to your kids about sex."

I knew that we needed to be proactive parents but the words that were needed eluded me constantly. The seminar was really informative and scary, they suggested age 8 was a good time to start the talks, we were already behind! As we left the information session I looked at Landy and said "Well this one is up to you, good luck!" and I left it at that.

Throughout the summer I have asked Landy if he had a chance to talk with Rhys and sadly Landy seemed at a loss on how to begin the conversation. Possibly being the third boy in a family of four meant that the talk had just been passed down from brother to brother. By age 13 Landy's father had died and maybe he never got the talk (I should have asked him that). I know in my house the talk happened at 18 and I had already learned more from MuchMusic than anything my parents shared with me.

This weekend Rhys and I were driving and were in the car together for half an hour, this seemed the perfect opportunity to touch on the subject.

I started with the topic of body changes: perfectly normal, nothing to be afraid of, sometimes confusing and he could always talk to us. I outlined how boys and girls bodies change and briefly on why they change.

Then I moved onto the touchy subject of Touching. The butterflies in my stomach could have lifted me off the ground. I talked to him about the importance of loving and respecting someone and how at times peer pressure and hormonal urges would make it hard to make good decisions but that I knew he could. I thought I did a good job talking about sex without going over his head. Rhys even shared with me that he had a crush on a girl in his class but that he did not want to kiss her. Turns out he is not interested in that yet, PHEW!

When I was done talking about sex I asked Rhys if he had any questions, he instantly came back and said "Mom, what do you do if your body likes one girl and your head likes another?" GULP! (in my head I am screaming go with the one you like with the head on your shoulders son!) I should have left this too Landy, what was I thinking?

"Well Rhys, if you like a girl with your body, you probably do not know her well, therefore you cannot love and respect her and that is important in relationships, if you just like her with your body, you only like one thing about her. If you like a girl with your head, you like everything about her, that is the basis of a loving and long relationship." Secretly I am thinking 'TOO SOON!'

"That is what I thought too mom." Thank goodness! A point for mom and a point for son who had a great question even if I could have waited 8 more years for that question.

This weekend it became clear that my baby is growing up before my eyes, but this weekend I realized that if he can handle that responsibility, maybe so can I.

From a Five Year Old Mind

I remember when Rhys was five and all his perceptions of Flynn and death changed from statements of fact to questions of why? Rhys was three when Flynn died and had lived with his and our grief for two years. His questions became a transcendence that mirrored our journey of grief and how it had evolved.

Ash has recently turned five. He was born two years after Flynn had died and his experience with death is limited to what he has been told about his brother's death, his paternal grandfather's death and more recently the death of his Great Grandmother when he was only two years old. His understanding of death differs greatly from Rhys's understanding at the same age.
We are very honest with our children, we do not use words like "passed away" or "sleeping." We do not tell them that the people who died were sick, if we can name an illness we do. We have explained the permanence of death as the body ceasing to function and we have tried not to complicate their understanding of death with philosophy until they are ready to conceptualize on their own (our ten year old is there now, but that is another blog).
I will interject here to tell you that although this all sounds good, Landy is known for wanting to give his children all the information in very adult terms. Rhys and Ash are very bright and sometimes that can be misconceived as capable of handling adult concepts, it has backfired many times.
As of late, Ash has become very interested with the topic of death. He has graduated from the kiddie cartoons and now some of his movies have themes with death as a central storyline and obviously our family has experienced death as well.
Due to our honesty, Ash is aware that his Grandfather died from a brain tumor when Landy was only thirteen. He knows that his brother died because he was born too early and was too small to survive and he knows that his Great Grandmother was very old and died due to complications from her age. In working out what this means to him, he retells the stories of these deaths, adding his own twists or changing facts, making the sombre into dramatic tales.
Here is an example of how he recalls what he was told of his Grandfather's death:

"So Grandpa had cancer in his head and it made him sick and so the doctors needed to make him better so they took a saw and they cut off his head to take the cancer out but when they put his head back on he still had cancer and so he was mad and then he died."

We have corrected Ash's version of the story many times, but each time the illness and the death are much more dramatic than the reality.

We were at Disney World when his Great Grandmother died, and it has definitely affected his explanation of how she died:

"Great Grandma was at the top of the castle with Cinderella and then the fireworks went off and Great Grandma fell of the top of the castle down to the ground and SMOOSH, she was dead."

I am sure that if my Grandma could have input she would find this story comical and enjoy the energy that Ash puts into the story.

Losing a brother is the most difficult for Ash to understand, maybe because unknowingly we explain it differently. The death of a child is hard to explain or make sense of and Ash's grasp of Flynn's death becomes internalized in how he talks about it:

"Flynn was born and he was a big person and so he died and then I am going to die because I am becoming a big person too."

When we explain that Flynn was not a big person, he was a tiny baby, Ash wants to know when he will die since he did not die as a baby. Landy tells him that he won't die, but I don't want to mislead Ash so I tell him that we do not know when we will die but that we hope that we all live to be very old. I hoped that would make sense to Ash but the other morning Ash came into our room and this is how the conversation went:

"So will I die tomorrow?"

"We do not know when we will die but we hope you will be much older than tomorrow."

"When will you die? Will you die tomorrow?"

"I hope to be old too, and watch you grow up and I hope that it will be a long time from tomorrow."

"So then not tomorrow?"

"No Ash, not tomorrow."

"Okay, can I have a snack?"

"Absolutely!"

And so we wait for the next round of questions and stories to sort out the difficultly of death.

My Job Restrictions

A few weeks ago Ash, my four year old, came home from junior kindergarden with a note from his teacher, they were looking for parent's to come in and discuss their job to the 60 kindergarden students at the school. Ash wondered if I would go, he wanted me to talk to the class about how I helped people to stop crying. I read the note from the teacher, it was a generic letter to all parents, the class was doing a unit on people in the community and they wanted all different types of jobs to come in and speak, the examples were police officers, firefighters, secretary, etc.
I was hesitant about volunteering, I am very comfortable speaking in public but I was not sure how to explain my job to children. I don't remember ever explaining it in detail to Ash and yet his assumptions of my job were quite sweet.
I had just attended a conference that discussed speaking with children about death and how important it was to include them in the conversations. I subscribed to this belief and I could apply it to this opportunity to talk with 4-6 year olds about my job. I decided to tell the children that when someone dies, the people who loved them are very sad and sometimes need help to feel better and that by talking and sharing with me, it is a start to them coping. I wrote the teacher a short note, letting her know the organization that I worked for, my position and what I could talk about and asked that she get back to me if she would like me to speak.
It was a week before I received a response and it came in the form of a letter penned on very pretty paper, this is what it said:

Thank you for so kindly offering to speak to the Kindergarden class about your job. Although I am sure that your job is important for the families that you serve, the principal and I do not feel the topic of death is an appropriate one for 4-6 year olds.

Thank you Again

I read the letter quite a few times, trying to pen a response, I wish that the
topic of death were not appropriate for 4-6 year olds. I know one 4 year
old in her class who has first hand experience with the topic of death and I was sure there was more. It struck me that it was the teacher and the principal that were not comfortable with the topic of death and I felt sad for them. Death is so much more difficult to handle when its very existence is denied. I guess that is part of my job, to educate and normalize people to grief and the part of my job that comes with restrictions is that some people will not want to know that I exist.