Written by Carolyn Mae Kim on April 08, 2021
My little one is at the age where he has questions about everything.
Each day is packed with an array of questions ranging from “Why is water wet?” to a bit more complicated ones, such as which planet is the hottest (and why) and how exactly did scientists decide Pluto is now a dwarf planet and not a “regular” planet.
Child development specialists often share how the age of toddlerhood is a wonderful one, where children ask questions and make meaning of their world with each new connection, observation, and insight. They are developing their sense of self and creating meaning for how the world should function.
While it shouldn’t have surprised me, I found myself completely caught off guard when his questions suddenly pivoted to his burn.
“Where were you?”
“Was I badly hurt?”
“Will I always look like this?”
And many, many others.
As a Public Relations professional, I specialize in helping train and equip people to navigate the complex process of communication. The words we use, the way we respond, the interactions we navigate – they all help shape our concepts of reality, our perceptions of ourselves and others, and our approach to future interaction.
Even knowing this, I found myself floundering in my first few attempts to answer my son's questions about a significant event in our lives: his burn injury.
We are now approaching the four-year anniversary of my little one’s burn. He was only an infant, not even able to sit yet, when we were first admitted to the Burn ICU.
I’ve found myself applying some communication strategies to my little one’s questions. It helps me navigate the conversations with more confidence, and, I hope, it has given him the answers he needs as he continues to make sense of his identity as a burn survivor. I hope these strategies may be helpful for other parents navigating similar dynamics.
Using Sara's story as a guide, help kids develop skills to feel more confident talking about their own or their loved one’s burn injury in social situations.
Interpersonal communication refers to the conversations taking place between two people.
Intrapersonal communication, on the other hand, is the communication you have internally with yourself.
I have found that being aware of my own intrapersonal communication is a foundational practice I have to exercise in order to communicate with my son about his burn.
For example, when he asked me, “Where were you?” as he wondered about how he got burned, I heard (intrapersonally) “Why weren’t you there protecting me? Why was I left alone?” My initial reaction was full of shame, guilt, and sorrow.
Without even thinking, my eyes filled with tears and I responded, “I am so sorry, baby. I was at work and you were with the nanny. I am so very sorry.” As my four-year-old watched me, he calmly said “Oh you don’t have to be sorry!” and moved on.
That's when I realized something that helped shape my future communication with him. Interpersonally, he simply asked a factual question: where was each person in our family when the burn happened. Intrapersonally, I immediately encountered some of that crazy, next-level parent guilt that many parents of burn survivors feel.
Being mindful of my own emotions, reactions, and feelings is so critical because I can then be aware of what I’m bringing into the conversation (my guilt or shame, in this case) versus what he is really asking about (a strictly logistical question that had no emotional judgment attached).
Early on in the journey for our family, I attended several group conversations with other parents of burn survivors, and also had many (many) conversations with our incredible social worker and child life specialist.
I quickly realized that my child would take his cues on the experience from me. I found it helpful to think through not simply what happened (which is his story) but what it means about him, his identity, and our family.
When I tell his burn story, I emphasize more than just the facts. I emphasize the character he has. We talk about his resilience, and what a great thing that is to have in life. We talk about his courage, and how he can use that in the future (as well as encourage others who may be in hard or scary situations). We use words like bravery, tenacity, and overcoming.
Words matter – and when we talk with our little ones about their burn journey, the words we choose to describe them (not just the situation) deeply shapes their sense of meaning and identity.
This one I struggled with in so many ways. Since I knew my little one would not remember the specifics of his burn, I wondered how much to share (and when), what I should disclose, and what we should just sort of “move past.”
Now that we’re a few years in, I’m so thankful for the recommendations and suggestions from places like the Phoenix Society for Burn Survivors and support groups. Through these conversations, I’ve realized there is no such thing as “moving past” the burn. It is part of our story.
Early on we decided that we would make it a regular and normal part of our family life – hoping that as he grew, he would be comfortable to ask questions about anything he wanted to know (and also that he would regularly learn about his burn so it was never a big “surprise” to learn what happened).
We were fortunate to have Minnie Mouse visit the Burn ICU while we were there. We have that picture up in our main section of the house (along with others of our family over the years). We make a book each year for our kiddo. His first year has multiple spreads of pages dedicated to his life in the BICU, the surgery, the recovery, and all the facets of life as a burn survivor. He regularly asks to look it over and will pick out different photos he wants to know more about depending on the day. I’m so thankful that he feels comfortable talking about his burn. He is at ease asking questions. And more so, he feels comfortable with his story.
As parents, we navigate the complex situation of both processing our trauma, grief, and guilt – while also searching for ways to help our children make meaning of their journey. We need to have grace for ourselves.
The act of being mindful about our intrapersonal dialogue is actually quite challenging – and it can be something that will surface areas we are still wrestling with and grappling with due to the burn. In the midst of that, we still want to find a way to be present for the conversations (whenever they come up) and really engage our little ones who are asking about their burns.
The more we can name what happened by embracing their story, use words of courage and truth about their resilience as burn survivors, and help them understand the many facets of their experience, the better positioned they will be to make meaning of not only their burn and recovery, but also their life as a burn survivor.
Their stories, while marked with pain, are emblematic of how they overcame. When our little guy came out of surgery in the Burn ICU, one of the volunteers had made a sign for his crib that said “SuperHero.”
That’s what he is to me. And that’s what I want him to know as he makes meaning of his own journey.
Carolyn Mae Kim is a national speaker, author, and professor in public relations. She is the mother of an amazing little four-year-old boy, who became a burn survivor at 8-months old.