The circle of life

I spent quite a lot of time during my second trimester preparing my daughter for the arrival of a baby brother or sister. I wanted to give her a sense of excitement for the forthcoming new addition to our family whilst teaching her the importance of caring for others. So, we read books about being a big sister and practised lots of role play with her toys (mainly with 'baby dolly') - snuggling them up cosy and warm under a blanket and pretending to give them milk to drink. We took an interest in other people's babies and talked about what activities we would do with our baby after he/she was born.

My daughter wanted to be like mummy and imagined that she too had a baby in her tummy. She would talk about how the baby would eat her dinner after she'd eaten it (I think my husband had tried to explain how babies are nourished through the umbilical cord). She took an interest in the movements in my bump and would kiss and stroke the baby through my tummy button.

I never imagined that I would end up having to try to explain why her brother isn't like other babies and that he is never coming home...


Tonight in the bath she said "When our baby comes back into your tummy..."

"No, sweetheart," I said "our baby isn't coming back into my tummy." I reminded her that he had been born but that he had died and that he isn't coming home.

"He's just in the picture" she said, sadly.


Yes, he's just in the picture. We have a photo of Monty on the windowsill. In the picture with him is his little soft bear rattle - a toy that we have given to our daughter as a gift from her brother and which she associates with the concept of 'our baby'.

We have been given lots of professional advice on how to explain death to children but it is hard to deal with the naivety and direct nature of some of my daughter's questions and statements. I can hardly understand what has happened myself, so how do I begin to make sense of it in a way that my daughter can comprehend? She is only two-and-a-half years old but she is confused by the sudden change - where is the baby we were preparing for? One thing is clear, she is grieving just as much as the rest of us for his loss.

I am sure that, as time goes on, I will be able to answer her questions a little better and without crying. I want her to know about Monty, to remember his name and to recognise his photo. He is my second child and her younger brother. He will always be 'our baby' but just in the picture, in our memories and in our hearts.