I have unfortunately. My children were 9 & 13 when I found out I had stage 4 breast cancer. I'd never had any cancer before so it was a whole new world for us and maybe easier in some ways as there was never the possibility of a cure.
I sat my daughter down - she was 13 and told her that I had breast cancer. We knew there was a possibility that it was incurable then and found out just a matter of days later that it was incurable for sure. She was relatively ok. We were sad, of course, but I think it was just weird and the words didn't (and still don't) feel quite real.
She's 17, almost 18 now and I'm still ok at the moment, but it's an ongoing process to develop their understanding. People mean well and we've had teachers and TA's tell them that they know so and so who had Breast Cancer in their 40's and is now 70 something, so they come home all happy and hopeful, and I have to explain all over again that my cancer is different. I'm hopeful, but no means have I given up, but reality needs to run side by side with that.
We talk about it from time to time. Sometimes we cry. Sometimes we discuss who they want me to haunt for them ☺️
It's shit really, but I firmly believe and they agree, that it's better that they know the truth and can be at least a little bit prepared. I'd hate for them to ever think that I'd spent whatever time we have together lying to them.
It also helps them to appreciate that our time is precious and I have to say that I think we're all the closer because of it.
My son was 9 and he knew things were going on, but I hadn't found the right time to talk to him, and he came across a search I did about cancer on YouTube because we shared an account at the time. So he came and asked me. It wasn't how I planned it, but it opened the conversation and we took it from there.
Facts, comfort, tears, squeezed in a bit of laughter and they have been utterly amazing. They always comfort me on the dark days. Which aren't that often anymore, but I'm glad they know and we can all support each other.