I had a thing to go to yesterday, so I shopped my closet to see what fit my bloated-not-pregnant body. Annie stood there watching me…she watches everything I do. At one point I was standing there in just my bra, and she said, “Mama, I kiss da baby in your belly.”
We’d told her about the baby, in very general two-year-old-friendly terms. Mama has a baby in her belly, that sort of thing. We didn’t really think she’d understand. But then she’d see me after I’d give myself a shot, and she’d say, “Got a boo-boo on your belly? Annie kiss it?” I didn’t want her to think the shots hurt (Shots are awesome! Yay! Look over there at that shiny thing!) so instead I’d say, “No boo boos, but want to kiss the baby?” She kissed my stomach after every shot. It really did make me feel better.
How we told my parents
When the shots stopped, I stopped mentioning the baby and getting kisses. It’s been over three weeks, I didn’t think she’d remember. But of course she did. I stood there for a second, trying to think of what to say. Since she obviously remembers everything, I wanted to be careful.
I finally said, “Honey, there’s no baby in there anymore.”
She looked at me, and then said, “Oh.” A few moments passed, then, “Where go?”
I kept it simple, “The baby is gone…like Maddie.”
Her eyes got wide, “OH! OK! Like Maddie!” She smiled.
I stood there and looked at her as she twirled and stared at herself in the mirror. I didn’t want to think about her asking me these questions over and over as she gets older. But I know she will.
She turned around and looked at me.
“Mama? You need diaper.”
She really misses nothing.
Kayla says:
As heart wrenching as this post is, (I cried a bit at Annie’s shirt; I remember Maddie’s) the good I see here is Annie’s reaction to the Maddie comparison.
She associates her sister with joy, and smiles, and not sadness. Even at two, you and Mike have done such a good job already associating Maddie with happy feelings and love that the mere mention of her sister’s name puts a big ‘ol smile on Annie’s face. That is beautiful.
As always, my love is with you all.
Michelle H says:
I completely agree with this. You and Mike always know just the right things to say, even if it doesn’t feel that way at first. I continue to be amazed by you.
Auntie_M says:
I also agree…I love that Annie associates Maddie with love & joy. Now this baby is associated with Maddie & therefore with love & joy because even though the baby isn’t with you, the baby is with Maddie: for Annie that makes it all right–more than all right, even.
Heart & gut wrenching for you, but as Kayla & Michelle said, you said the right thing for Annie, even if you didn’t realize it til it came out of your mouth.
soleil says:
Oh gosh
My daughter knew we were expecting a baby for a couple of months and knew about the miscarriage, and it was spoken of until I got pregnant again the next year, not so much after that. She was 4 and very articulate. Blow me down with a feather, when I mentioned it last year she had no memory of it at all, 4 years later. I was glad because sometimes I thought I was traumatising her with all the bad crappiness of it. And also glad to have brought it up again when she might remember it and not come across this info later and think it was hidden. I don’t know if that’s a helpful anecdote or an annoying one or whatever, I know it’s very different with having Maddie in your lives as well. I just worried a lot about her when I was sad already and I needn’t have xoxo
Annalisa says:
I think soleil has something there, Heather.
Maddie will probably always have to be explained, because she was there for much longer, and is and always will be a very tangible part of your life. The baby that wasn’t, however, might fade from memory for Annie, and that’s okay too, since there are going to be very few tangible details left over time (which in and of itself might be sad for you and Mike, I realize).
The important thing for the time being is that you provided her with an explanation that made sense to her. That’s all that matters. Time and space will do the rest, for all of you.
Lynn from For Love or Funny says:
Oh, Heather. I’m so sorry to read about your miscarriage. How heartbreaking.
Ashlea says:
She loves you so much! My mom lost my baby sister when she was 8 months pregnant, the cord had wrapped around her neck. I was 3 when this happened & watching my mom be upset is my first memory. Everything was ready for her so I’m sure that they really talked it up to me, but after she died it wasn’t brought up again. It was something my mom never talked about. I always wished that it was explained more as I got older. I was always so jealous of the kids in my class with baby siblings. I know y’all will do great with Annie when the time comes with her questions! Sending love y’alls way xoxo
christine says:
Heather, you are such an amazing mama. I hope someday I can have a tiny ounce of your strength and groundedness. Sending you prayers and hugs.
Lisa says:
What a tough thing to explain to such a little one. She will have her chance at being a big sis, I just know it! Glad that she listened to you and then moved on quickly, they are so resilient. Hope the diaper is comfy.
Kirsten says:
I found this to be the hardest part of the miscarriage – our 4 year old son was SO EXCITED to be a big brother. Just yesterday he brought it up again and said “mama, I very wanted a baby” and I just get tears in my eyes as I have to tell him once again that there is no more baby.
It stings a little every time he brings it up…not really sure what to do with that
Skye says:
Her cute big sister shirt is so heartbreaking. I hope she gets another chance to wear it and to give kisses to a baby in mama’s tummy.
Anna says:
Annie is the best! I love the diaper comment.
Dawn says:
Ouch. I can only imagine how that must have hurt. You handled it with such grace and aplomb and Annie clearly adores her big sister. With the crappy hand that you’ve been dealt, you are doing so much right with it. (I hope that made sense – it did in my head).
Glenda says:
heart breaking… praying that some day soon Annie will be a big sister, and gets to kiss your belly and enjoy a baby brother or sister.
Lanie says:
Kisses on your belly is the best! Annie is so sweet. I have learned that there are endless questions from our twins about the deaths of their siblings. At every age there seems to be a new more complicated version of the question. I wish I had the right answers but it is so hard to explain what does not make any sense. Take care.
Gale @ Ten Dollar Thoughts says:
As a rule I don’t like to leave links to my own posts in other people’s comments sections because I think it borders on obnoxious. But your post today reminded me of one I wrote back in January and I think you might appreciate it. It’s so hard for us as adults to see things the way a child does. But oftentimes I think we’d be much better off if we could. Anyway, here’s the link: http://tendollarthoughts.com/2012/01/27/what-a-gift-it-is/
Auntie_M says:
Such a “lovely” story (as lovely as a story filled with such grief can be). I know I’m going to totally screw up the thoughts in my head as I try to express them in words, but here goes…
I truly believe that children have a grace to see into the spirit realm. Now, I don’t mean seeing ghosts or things–but there just seems to be a grace upon them to grasp such difficult concepts and understand them in an easier, simplistic, and beautiful way. Perhaps we loose this as we grow older and learn to study & analyse and question. But the young have an openness to God & angels that is so beautiful in its simplistically.
Thus Annie’s joy at knowing this baby she was to be big sister to, is with her big sister, and the peace that it brought her.
Ugh…not doing so well at expressing myself at all. Think I’ll stop trying!
Auntie_M says:
As I said above, I love that Annie associates Maddie with love & joy. Now this baby is associated with Maddie & therefore with love & joy because even though the baby isn’t with you, the baby is with Maddie: for Annie that makes it all right–more than all right, even.
I am constantly amazed at the incredible answers you and Mike have for Annie for situations that really seem to have no answers at all. Each one of your answers is like a little miracle to me…I’d probably still be standing there like a zombie trying to come up with an answer totally freaking my child out.
I know your heart is hurting and that Annie’s sweet innocent questions could pierce like a knife but your love for her & the way you try to find the best, most honest, and most 2-y-o understandable answer for her leaves me humbled.
You and Mike remain in my heart, thoughts, & prayers and I hope that Dr. HiRisk’s new plans for your next pregnancy come to full fruition.
As for the diaper…yup: Annie doesn’t miss a thing! Just keep your fingers crossed that she doesn’t inform anyone in public about your diaper-wearing habit. My 3-y-o niece informed all of Costco the other day that her mommy’s boobbies are nice & squishy. And at her mom’s birthday party this weekend, she said she wanted to help my tummy feel better (recent surgery) and energetically rubbed my breasts–in front of my brother-in-laws, my own brother, and 2 male friends. Ah, kids!
Annalisa says:
I didn’t want to think about her asking me these questions over and over as she gets older. But I know she will.
As I said above, I suspect that Annie will always have questions about Maddie, but she may very well forget about this potential sibling, especially if (and I’m so hoping this for you) another sibling comes in due time.
It’s just the nature of early childhood that we don’t remember a lot of it save for the very tangible stuff. Everything I know from before I was 3 came from anecdotes my family told me, photographs, and toys/preschool artifacts lovingly conserved by my parents (like the ashtray I made when I was 4 that was never used as such :P).
We’re just unable as a species to remember much of our early childhood, and by design too. If you think about it, so many things are scary and/or puzzling for someone just learning to look at the world that remembering it all might just render most of us incapable of moving past those early fears and misunderstandings about the world.
I had no idea my mom had been pregnant after I was born (I’m the youngest of 2), save for her telling me so many years later. I can tell you that I don’t remember having a lot of questions about what my mom told me even as an older kid. I had a vague understanding that not every potential baby becomes an actual baby by then, so what little she told me made sense by then
How you revisit this and when will really depend on how much Annie happens to remember about the baby, and how much she herself needs to ask. Letting a child’s curiosity and his/her own understanding guide the telling is the way to go.