The Innocence (and Honesty) of a Four Year Old

My niece "P" is four.  She has three older brothers, so she knows how to handle herself, she is independent, and spunky, however, very much a girly girl.

A few days after Elisa's birth, P came over to visit with my dad.  I was still in quite a bit of pain from engorgement, so was just laying on the couch.  Mr V was still working form home at this time, and was about to take a break for lunch, so my dad asked if he could leave P with us, so he could get some things done around their house (my parents live less than a block away...yes I have the best husband in the world to live that close to his in laws).

So P stayed with us for about an hour or so.  She decided she wanted to make valentines, and to hang them on a tree wall decal we have on the landing of our stairs.  She was very particular about exactly what she wanted to do.

When she got done coloring she told me she needed to go down the stairs, and tape them to the tree. I told her I would give her the tape, but that she would have to do it herself, since I was hurting too much to get up and help her.

Then with the innocence of a four year old she said "yeah, you are hurt, cause your baby died". Mr V and I were both a little taken aback by what she said, for one, at this point we didn't know if my brother had even told her what happened, so we thought she didn't know, and second, because well, she just said it how it was.  Yes, I was hurt because my baby died, both physically and emotionally. As much as it pained me to hear those words "your baby died" it was also healing.  Other people had said "you lost your baby", "your baby was stillborn", but no one had really uttered the truth, that, my baby had died.

I am a mother, a mother whose only children have died.  Walking down the street people don't know I am a mother, because I don't have a baby, or nearly one year old with me.  I don't get to shopping for baby clothes, or toddler toys. I don't get to think of themes for an upcoming first birthday. But I am a mother, to two wonderful girls, who just happen to be in heaven rather than here on earth.