For bereaved siblings who were too young to remember their sibling alive, or for the ‘rainbows’ who were born after their sibling died, starting school may raise some questions. They may notice a difference between their own concept of what a brother or sister is, compared to the children around them.

Parents often worry about what this will be like for their child. Will they understand? Will it confuse them? Will they feel different? Will others understand and support them if they need it?

It is natural to worry but here are some ways you can take control and ease the fear:

  1. Advocate for your child and your family. Let their new teacher know about your child’s sibling and how they are remembered and symbolised in your family. This can include what words you use and if you have certain religious or cultural beliefs.
  2. Share stories with your little one about starting school and stories that depict different families. Look at the pictures together and talk about them: “Look, she has a brother. He is on the swing. Where is your special brother?” You can also share stories about bereaved siblings and rainbows (see our Lullaby Trust Story For Bereaved Siblings below)
  3. Meet with other bereaved families by attending one of our special family day events. Your child will be able to meet other bereaved siblings and make new, happy memories in memory of their own special sibling.

Back to school: a story for bereaved siblings

Read it here or scroll to the bottom to watch a video of it being read to you!

Leo has an older sister who died before he was born. Her baby photo and his stand side by side on the fireplace – Layla smiling brightly with Giraffe and Leo gummily chewing on Bunny’s ear.

 

For as long as Leo could remember, as his parents tucked him up each night, together they would look up to the stars and wish, ‘night-night, sleep tight,’ to Layla.

 

On special days, Layla’s little Giraffe went everywhere they did. It was included in every picture, sat on every table, and watched every film.

Leo treasured his sister, Layla, and the cozy warmth of his family’s love for her. For Leo, sisters were photographs, twinkly stars, and adventures with floppy giraffes.

Then Leo started school.

As he, Mumma and Giraffe stood waiting outside his new classroom, other children began to arrive too.

A little girl with tight curls and yellow star-shaped clips in her hair came bounding over to him.

“I’m Zada. I like your giraffe!”

Leo beamed proudly. “That’s Layla’s. She’s my sister,” he said.

Then he added, “I like your stars!” before smiling up at Mumma.

Zada skipped over to where her grandparents were stood with a restless baby in a pram.

“I have a sister too!” she said.

Leo and Zada’s teacher was called Mr Masood. Mr Masood asked all the children to draw a picture of their family.

A little girl next to Leo was very chatty. “That’s my daddy, that’s me, and that’s my brother, Ben, with the dog.”

Leo was a little quiet as he carefully drew himself with Mummy and Mumma and a little cluster of stars.

“That’s a colourful drawing, Leo!” said Mr Masood. “I can see Mummy and Mumma here,” he said, pointing.

Then Mr Masood moved his finger gently over the cluster of stars. “And here in these twinkly stars is your big sister, Layla… but who is this?”

Leo grinned up at his smiling teacher. “Me, Mr Masood! That’s my family, and this is me!”