Bereaved sibling anxiety

When we told the children we were expecting again they were thrilled. My husband held up the ultrasound picture and asked if they knew what it meant and the older two boys immediately started to cheer. It was lovely. The younger two, when the penny dropped, jumped up and down.

Probably the most touching comment was from our oldest boy, who is in grade five. He said, "Oh, this is GREAT! I've prayed for a new baby every single day since George died. Finally!!"

Then, after the initial moments of happiness, they all got quiet. We were putting the younger two to bed when they started to ask us if this baby would die like their little brother George. Heartbreaking. The older two asked before they, too, turned in for the night.

As much as I want to reassure my children that this baby won't die, I no longer feel guaranteed that a healthy pregnancy will result in a living baby. I refuse to lie to them; I can't guarantee this baby will live and I don't want to promise something that I don't know is a certainty. Losing our son during labour - when I thought was homefree and bringing that baby home - has changed everything. Not just for me.

I've tried to reassure them that the stats are in our favour; the four of them were born just fine and what happened with George was random. I had one mother suggest I tell them that if they pray all will be well, but to me that would be wrong. What if they prayed and something did happen to this baby? I know women who have had back-to-back losses. I would hate to have my children think that either they didn't pray hard or well enough - or - that they were ignored. Personally I don't think God takes babies, I think things happen. I don't know why. I have a lot of questions. But I know how hard this grief journey has been for each of them and I simply cannot make a blanket promise that all will be well. It would be devastating for them if that proved not to be true.

This week a friend here where we live gave birth to a baby. A few of her older children are classmates of my older children and we're friends. I told the children before school, "Oh, by the way, Mrs. S. had a baby boy last night."

My children - all four of them - stopped and looked at me quietly. Then my third son asked what they were all thinking, "Did the baby live?"

It breaks my heart that our children know babies die. That a healthy mum and pregnancy don't guarantee a healthy baby. When I cried over this with a few mothers later they reassured me that the compassion my children have for bereavement shows through their words and actions. But it's sad to think of future bereaved parents, even if they are consoled by my surviving children.

And the little question articulater, our Mini-man in grade one, summed up all of our anxiety over this upcoming delivery so poignantly later. He snuggled up to me and rubbed my big belly and then said, "Oh, Mum. I hope this baby lives, too. Having a dead baby isn't very much fun."