Telling our Kiddos

We live in an area where our church leader is very inspired.  When he came to talk with us, the Monday that I found out, he said that he'd received a Live Strong packet at work that included helpful advice about kids and how to tell them about this very situation.  He brought the packet over to us the next evening.

Coach and I put this off as long as we could, mostly because we weren't equipped with the right tools on how to say it, and really how to talk about it with our kids.  We also didn't have a treatment plan yet and wanted to be able to give them a timeline.  Unfortunately we were getting to the point in the giving of information that it was only a matter of time before they found out.

Our number one priority was that we be accurate, but also age appropriate.  What we didn't want was this to impact their sense of "normal" in their lives.  I wanted them to know that yes, I was sick, but that I would also be getting better.

In the packet there was a DVD made by the Arthur show; in conjunction with the Lance Armstrong Live Strong organization.  After reading about what information it contained, and how to talk about it with your kids, we set aside Sunday, after church to discuss what was going on with them.

We called a family meeting during dinner, and after dishes were done and everything was cleaned up, we all sat in our livingroom and I popped the DVD in.  P wanted to know what was up.  I told him to watch the movie and that when it was over we would talk about what they thought of it.  When the movie was over, both of the boys were just looking at me.  G was flipping around on the furniture-which is normal for us.

Coach told the boys that I have cancer.  P immediately said, "I don't want you to die."  He was rooted to the couch that he was sitting on and my heart shattered into a million pieces.  K ran to Coach and climbed into his lap.  I sat there.  Numb.  Scared.  Not ready for this.  At. All.

"I'm not going to die."  That was the best I could do.

"How come you have cancer, Mom?" K was upset, but still wanted to gather information.

"It just happens sometimes.  It's not something that anyone can control."  I was crying at this point, because I had never asked myself that question.  I was resigned to beating it and hadn't given enough thought to this.

"How do you know you're not going to die?" K again.

"I was promised that I wouldn't.  So, I'm not going to. I also have waaaaay to much to do before that can ever happen."

"Promise me that you won't die Mom.  Pinky promise me."  Pinky extended by P.  What choice did I have?  There will be some critics that will probably think badly of me that I would promise a 10 year old something that I had little control over, but I stuck my pinky out too and with that a deal was struck.

I am a keeper of promises.

K was quiet for a bit and then got up, and walked out of the room.  Coach and I looked at each other, and I hugged P for a while.  G continued to flip around the furniture, asking random questions now and then like when could he play at so-and-so's house.

K came back in after a couple of minutes and said, "P, if you want to know if Mom is going to live; just ask Heavenly Father.  I did and He told me that she would live.  He'll tell you too if you ask."  I then got a very big hug and my heart was suddenly whole and beating again.

This was how we told our kids the scariest thing I've ever had to tell them.  It wasn't pretty, or perfectly scripted.  We talked about how they may need to go to the neighbor's homes after school on days that I was at the doctor or hospital.  We talked about how they may need to treat me.  We even talked about the fact that I might go bald from treatment.  They all promised to shave their heads in support.  Coach is very proactive and has been shaving his head for the past 12 years of our marriage.  What a guy!!

I thought that G hadn't heard a word of it.  That because he was 4 his ability to process was limited by his attention span.  I was wrong.  When I went to pick up my friend the next morning he surprised me.  As she was buckling her kiddo in our van G said, "My Mom has cancer.  She's sick and has to go to the doctor."

Never underestimate the small ones.  They have large ears, and brilliant minds.  When everything is said and done, I'm grateful that we were able to talk to our kids before they heard it from someone else, or overheard a conversation later on down the road.  I am  blessed with three beautiful, rough, rugged, crazy, compassionate boys and a loving husband.  These are my four reasons to fight the good fight.  They are my world, and I have always been a keeper of promises.

~Kami