I figure you have all been crying. It's hard not to. The pain and the loss are so great, there seems to be no way not to cry.
So, I am going to repost something from a long time ago. Because what the various experts are saying is that while it's good to calmly and supportively talk with your child about what's going on, you should address their questions (if you can—Diana's main question was: Why?), but let them move on.
The thing is, of course, that for many people, parents and others, it's not so easy to move on. And so you end up crying reading the newspaper over breakfast (I'm speaking theoretically here, of course), which is not the most excellent for your child's mental health.
The solution? Books that make you weep. If you happen to have a copy of The Velveteen Rabbit handy, this can easily explain your weeping. And in fact, if you are just feeling the awful, pent-up bottled feelings and are unable to weep? These books will help you there, too.
I've talked about my irrational attachment and inability to think critically about the books of my youth, but I didn't mention a sort of subset of that: the books that, no matter how I am feeling otherwise, always reduce me to tears. It's almost as if it's mechanical.
Even with my now strong conviction that this excellent book is trying to play out some sort of hidden Christian theological message, when I get to, "and so the little Rabbit was put into a sack with the old picture books and a lot of rubbish…" it's all over. I can still read, but my eyes are not dry.
Why is that? My children don't seem to feel it. They're absorbed, concerned, but it seems to me that there is something profoundly connected with being older and oh-so-aware of mortality that makes it happen. And, come to think of it, it's not just books of my youth.
I don't even really like this book that much; it can seem sentimental (duh) and smarmy (though Diana, when young, went crazy for the part about glittering Polaris), but something about the child's being born—it just slays me, and I have to take a break because there's a lump in my throat, and whatever child I am/was reading to at the time will look up at me to see what the delay is all about, and seeing me look ridiculous will (kindly) look away till I pull myself together.
Does this happen to anyone else?
Another thing that can help you feel better, possibly? Donating here.