Talking About Isaac
then there's a chance of causing distress.
In the five and a half years since my first-born, Isaac, died at 40 days old, I’ve answered these and other seemingly innocuous questions in many ways. Sometimes I couldn’t face the reality or reckoned that I wouldn’t meet the stranger again, in which case I would effectively deny that my little one existed (I won’t go into the guilt of that.) Sometimes it would depend on how the question was asked. A quick nod
How old is he? What’s her name? Have you been here before? Do you live nearby? How many children do you have? Is he your first?
These are pretty standard questions when you meet someone new at a playgroup.
Apart from possibly getting the gender wrong (oops), the first four questions are pretty harmless, but what about the last two? How often do we meet an adult without kids in tow and ask them, ‘Do you have children?’
For many, luckily, these
Liz shares her experience of how our language might hurt or help parents who have experienced the loss of a child.
three questions are easy to answer and straightforward, and lead to a lovely discussion about respective children. But, if you happen to be asking them to one of many who struggle to conceive, have experienced miscarriage or a stillbirth, or the parent of a child who has died,