My daughter could easily be nicknamed “The Question Master”. From sun up, to sun down… her brain is going full throttle and her curiosity has peaked it’s highest level. I love to see how her mind works, what catches her interest, and the persistence she has when begging for every little detail. Just today on our way home from the grocery store, she asked me from the backseat:
“Mom, can you tell me about doctor tools?”
“Mom, why are most buildings made out of brick?”
“Mom, are there tornadoes in Hawaii?”
The questions come rapid fire and not always sparked by an obvious subject. Thankfully – she can usually be satisfied with a semi-factual answer, a quick google-search, or my favorite response.. a question right back.
“I don’t know Riley. Do you think there are tornadoes in Hawaii?”
Sometimes the questions get a little more personal and I struggle to find the right answer. One afternoon this past summer, we were all walking home from the pool. Riley was exhausted and near the point of falling asleep when she randomly popped up and said:
“Mom – is Grandma Karen your mom?”
Gulp. ‘Grandma Karen’ is my stepmom, so I totally understood why she would think that. But she isn’t my ‘mom’. Mac and I looked at each other in fear of how to answer the questions that were to follow from our sweet, naive daughter.
“No, Riley. Grandma Karen isn’t my mom. My mom’s name is Kristie”
“Have I met your mom? Where does she live? Can I meet her?”
What I wanted to respond was not appropriate for a 5 year old’s ears. My parents were married 22 years when my mom had an affair and within months she had given up on me and my sisters and started a new life without us. It’s been 16 years since she’s been in our lives… she doesn’t know our husbands, hasn’t met her 6 grandchildren. There’s no fun way to explain this situation.
“Riley – you haven’t met her… she lives somewhere around here I think.. I haven’t seen her in a long time… but maybe someday you’ll meet her”.
That answer was enough to satisfy her for the day and thankfully I had a therapy appointment before she had the next chance to torture me with questions. My therapist gave me a way to explain the relationship to her. So a few days later, while feeding Tommy..
“Mom, what’s your moms name again? When can I meet her?”
I ran through the narrative that my therapist had suggested I try – in a very simple way, explain that my mom isn’t feeling well, and it’s not something the doctors can fix, because it’s her head and how she makes decisions, and hopefully someday she will be all better and we can see her again. Riley digested it for a bit, took a sip of chocolate milk and then with a very content look on her face, said:
“Oh okay. So your mommy’s brain doesn’t work? Like she doesn’t have a brain? Oh – so your mommy is like the scarecrow from Wizard of Oz”.
I almost died. Part of me wanted to start laughing, another part of me wanted to cry thinking about the next time she tells her friends that her ‘grandma she’s never met is from the wizard of oz’…
Obviously we’re aware that this is what kids do. They’re curious. And at certain points in the past few years – we have had to anticipate her questions around more sensitive topics. When we found out we were pregnant with triplets, we made every second of every day into this fairy tale like adventure of what it will be like for Riley to be the boss of three little boys. Because we were afraid three tiny babies would rock her ‘only child’ world to the core – we wanted to prepare her with a positive mindset. Lucky for us, she didn’t take much convincing and throughout the pregnancy would brag to complete strangers that her mommy had three brothers in her belly and she was going to be the big sister. Several times a day, she would hold her hand on three random places on my giant stomach and say “hey tommy – can you kick me”, “hey ollie – can you kick me”, and “hey grey – can you kick me”. She would get so excited every time I would fake my stomach jumping in response to her sweet requests.
When we found out our boys were sick – I was devastated for a million reasons. But one of the top 5 was that this incredible gift was going to be taken away from Riley. And how was I supposed to explain this situation to her. Thanks be to my therapist – I had an immediate, professional psychologist approved, plan. She told me to not mention a word to Riley about her brothers being sick – the goal was to not draw any connections between sick = death. Because for a 3 year old who catches every germ that preschool can offer – it can cause instant fear. So as hard and painful as it was – every time she visited me in the hospital and cried asking why I couldn’t come home, I would explain that the doctors had to make sure mommy and her brothers were nice and healthy. The plan was to keep repeating this to her until one or more of her brothers had passed away. In the meantime, I was also encouraged to start telling her exciting stories about heaven. To create some sort of Disney story about angels that fly and play on the clouds and how they get to meet Jesus and paint this amazing picture of the unknown world where our boys, unbeknownst to her, would soon be entering. Ideally – we would create an image in her mind that wasn’t scary, wasn’t associated with being sick. Riley took to it and up until the very day that Ollie passed away – she would talk to her three brothers, beg them for a kick, and though my belly was becoming more silent.. I would gift her with the same exaggerated movements and almost always burst into tears.
A few weeks after Ollie and Grey’s hearts stopped beating, Mac and I decided it was time to have a conversation with Riley. There was no way I could get the words out – so Mac took the lead and in a very simple sentence said “Riley – do you remember how we told you the story about all the beautiful angels that fly up in the sky and play around in Heaven? Well your brothers Ollie and Grey are angels now. They have angels wings and they are in Heaven and can hear us when we pray and are going to make sure your brother Tommy is safe. We have to keep taking good care of mommy and hopefully Tommy will be here soon”. I wanted to vomit, but Riley gave a simple “okay!” and jumped off the bed.
For the weeks that stood in between two boys going to Heaven, and three babies being delivered – Riley was silent on the topic. Even weeks into Tommy’s stay in the NICU – she would ask questions about Tommy and we would look at pictures (our NICU didn’t allow any visitors except parents and grandparents) and talk about his different tubes, machines, silly sounds, etc but there was no talk about Ollie and Grey from her. It pained me because as much as this was a healthy process for a 3 year old – I hated feeling they had that quickly been washed away from her memory.
The day we took Riley to the NICU with us – it all changed. Our nurse had offered to show Tommy to Riley through the glass entrance door – and Riley was ecstatic. We caught the moment on video and couldn’t get over her sweet face when Tommy yawned.
But the second we got in the car, Riley started crying. I figured she was upset because we were leaving without Tommy or she was confused or million other things that seemed fitting. Instead – she let out a huge sob and said “Mom, I want three brothers. Not just one. Why don’t I have three brothers?”. I had no answers. I was still searching for that answer myself – still in a complete state of shock that I didn’t have three baby brothers to give to Riley. Painting a fun picture of angels flying around after I had just held their lifeless bodies weeks prior – was impossible. I was angry, sad, confused, and feeling guilty to have disappointed my daughter.
Throughout the past year, she’s had more questions and I’ve had less answers.
“Mom – how did Ollie and Grey get to Heaven?”
“When can I meet my brothers?”
“Why did Tommy live in the hospital but my others brothers didn’t”
Her timing is usually when I’m least expecting it and but I’ve gotten better at not falling to pieces after she walks away.
Last night was an exception however. Riley is the ‘star of the day’ today in her kindergarten class and so we were tasked last night with putting together a bag of her favorite things. We collected the easy items first – her elephant, Buddy, her latest favorite princess Elena, and an obscene amount of Shopkins. Then we got to work on a collage of pictures of her family. We went through some pictures on my computer – printed a few of the ones she thought ‘her friends would think were funny’ and right when we were taping the last picture on – she said “Mom, what about Ollie and Grey? Where is a picture of them?”. Enter: instant tears. The truth is – the pictures I have of them aren’t ones you would tape onto a kindergarten collage to be passed around a room of 5 year olds. So I suggested she draw a picture instead – maybe draw two little angels – if she felt like she wanted to share that she has brothers in heaven. Enter: Riley’s instant tears. Her eyes welled up and she started pulling at her lip like she does when she’s avoiding a full-out cry.
“But mom, I can’t draw them because I don’t know what they look like. What do they look like?”
The pit in my stomach hasn’t gone away since. I didn’t have an answer for her then – and I don’t have one now. The only thing I could choke out was “I think they look like Tommy” and then I wanted to throw up. It took me months to even look Tommy in the eyes as a newborn baby because I was so afraid of the deep pain that followed for me. The desperation to know if his brothers’ eyes would have been as big and bright. The agonizing curiosity if the twins would have looked more like Riley or if it would have been a no brainer Tommy’s triplet brothers. Were they blonde? Were they brunettes? I have no clue and I sure as hell have no answer to give Riley. My greatest wish in life is to know what they look like as healthy 1.5 year old boys – to be able to describe every single square inch of them – to know what separated them from being identical twins and what made them just like Tommy. I don’t know and I won’t know until someday when I’m reunited with them. And I hope on that day I can send down a magical drawing to Riley so she can have a sneak peak of what her two brothers look like.
In the meantime, O & G, a visit to me in my dreams would be amazing.
XO,
Sara
The Madness Between 