When Someone You Love Has Cancer: How to Talk to Your Kids
Your family has just received news that changes everything. Maybe you're still in shock. Maybe you're holding yourself together during the day and falling apart at night. And somewhere in the middle of processing your own fear, there's a question that keeps surfacing: How do I tell my kids?
As a licensed clinical social worker in Los Angeles specializing in trauma and grief, I have supported many families in navigating this reality. I not only pull from my professional training, I also have lived this experience. My mother died of breast cancer when I was 12 years old. That experience shaped the therapist I became and taught me how much these conversations matter.
Why Open Communication Matters
Research consistently shows that children whose parents communicate openly about a cancer diagnosis cope better than those who are kept in the dark. In my clinical experience, this holds true across every family I've worked with.
When a parent is diagnosed with cancer, children often feel worried in ways they can't fully name. They may sense that something has shifted in the family but struggle to put into words what they're feeling, especially if the adults around them aren't talking openly about what's happening.
The reality is that kids know when something is wrong. They notice the hushed phone calls, the tension in the house, the worried looks between adults. When they don't have information, they fill in the gaps themselves. Without context, children's minds become storytellers, and the stories they tell themselves are almost always scarier than the truth.
Being honest with your child won't traumatize them. What creates lasting distress is the sense that they can't trust the adults around them to tell the truth, or that they're alone in something scary.
Practical Guidance for the Conversation
Choose the right moment
This isn't a conversation to have while rushing out the door or right before bed. Find a quiet time when you can sit together without distractions, and when your child will have space to process what they hear.
If all caregivers in your family can be present, that's ideal. It shows your child that you're facing this as a family.
Use honest, simple language
You don't need to share every medical detail, but don't hide behind vague language either. Using the word "cancer" rather than saying "Mommy is sick" helps your child understand that this is different from a cold or flu.
Match your explanation to your child's age.
For younger children (ages 3-7), keep it concrete and simple:
"Dad has something called cancer. It means his body isn’t working the way it should. The doctors are giving him medicine to help his body fight it, and that medicine might make him tired sometimes."
For school-age children (ages 8-12), you can add more context about what to expect:
"Mom has breast cancer. That means there are some cells in her body that are growing in a way they shouldn't. She's going to have surgery and then receive a treatment called chemotherapy. The medicine is strong, so she might feel tired or sick some days, and her hair might fall out for a while. This is a normal part of helping her body fight the cancer."
For teenagers, you can offer more specifics about treatment, timeline, and prognosis if they want that information. Many teens appreciate being treated as capable of handling the full picture. Let their questions guide how much detail you provide.
Hold hope without making guarantees
It's natural to want to reassure your child that everything will be fine. But making promises about outcomes can backfire.
Instead of: "Mom is going to be okay."
Try: "Mom's doctors are doing everything they can to help her. We're hopeful, and we'll tell you what's happening as we learn more."
This approach is honest, holds space for hope, and doesn't set your child up for confusion if things don't go as planned.
Make room for their reactions
Some kids cry. Some get angry. Some seem unfazed and then fall apart days later. Some ask a hundred questions; others go silent.
All of these responses are normal. Many of the families I work with describe feeling exactly this way, uncertain about whether they're handling it right. In my work with children facing family illness, I've seen that the kids who struggle most aren't always the ones who cry or get angry. Often, it's the ones who feel they have to hold it together for everyone else. Let your child know that whatever they're feeling is okay, and that you're feeling big things too.
"It's okay to feel scared or sad or even mad about this. I feel some of those things too. Whenever you want to talk about it, or if you have questions later, I'm here."
One important thing to address, especially with younger children: make sure they know they didn't cause this. Children are prone to magical thinking and may quietly worry that something they did or didn't do contributed to the illness.
Maintain routines where you can
A cancer diagnosis disrupts everything. But for children, familiar routines provide a sense of safety when the world feels unpredictable.
As much as possible, support them in continuing their regular activities: school, sports, time with friends. There will be days when they don't want to go, and that's okay too. But preserving some normalcy helps them feel grounded.
Taking Care of Yourself
If you're the caregiver, you're carrying an enormous weight right now. You're managing medical appointments, coordinating care, keeping the household running, supporting your children emotionally, and somehow finding time to process your own fear and grief. It's a lot. And most caregivers I work with feel like they're not allowed to struggle because they're not the one who's sick.
Your feelings matter too.
You may be experiencing what's called anticipatory grief, the painful process of mourning a loss that hasn't happened yet. It's your mind and heart trying to prepare for something you can't fully prepare for. This kind of grief can show up as waves of sadness, moments of emotional numbness, or even guilt for feeling grief when your loved one is still here. If you're feeling this, it doesn't mean you've given up hope. It means you're human, and you love someone deeply.
You might feel guilty for having moments of resentment or exhaustion. You might be so focused on holding everything together that you haven't let yourself feel much of anything at all. It's common to swing between these states, sometimes within the same hour.
Research shows that having people who can help with practical tasks and emotional support is associated with better family adjustment when a parent has cancer. Parental wellbeing directly affects how children cope. Taking care of yourself isn't selfish. It's how you sustain the energy to be there for the people who need you.
In practical terms: let people help. If someone offers to bring a meal, say yes. If you can hand off school pickup for a week, do it.
And if you're noticing signs of significant distress in yourself (trouble sleeping, persistent anxiety, difficulty concentrating, feelings of hopelessness), consider talking to a therapist. Therapy for adults going through a loved one's cancer diagnosis can help you process what you're experiencing, develop coping strategies, and work through the complicated emotions that come with caregiving. You don't have to wait until you're in crisis to get support.
When Your Child Might Need Extra Support
Most children are resilient, especially when they feel supported by the adults around them. But some children benefit from additional help processing what's happening.
Signs to watch for:
Persistent changes in sleep or appetite
Withdrawal from friends, activities, or hobbies
Ongoing anxiety, clinginess, or fear that seems out of proportion
Regression to younger behaviors (in younger children)
Decline in school performance or concentration
Expressions of hopelessness or excessive guilt
If you notice these changes lasting more than a few weeks, connecting your child with a therapist who specializes in children and grief can help. Therapy for children provides a safe space to process complex emotions in age-appropriate ways. We also work with families navigating grief and loss, whether that means anticipatory grief during illness or processing a death.
Frequently Asked Questions
In short, there's no perfect script for these conversations. But here are answers to some of the questions I hear most often.
What if my child asks, "Are you going to die?"
This is one of the hardest questions to answer. Be honest in an age-appropriate way: "The doctors are working hard to help me get better. I'm doing everything I can to take care of my body." If your prognosis is uncertain, it's okay to say: "I don't know exactly what will happen, but I promise to always tell you the truth, and I will always make sure you're taken care of."
What if my child sees me cry?
That’s okay. In challenging situations like this one, you are bound to have your own emotions. Showing emotion models that it's safe and normal to have feelings. What’s important is that you model having emotions from a safe, regulated state. You might say: "I'm crying because I feel sad right now, and that's okay. Crying helps me feel better sometimes." What children need to see is that you can have big feelings and still be okay. If you are feeling completely dysregulated, panicking, or feeling hopeless about the future, try to carve out some time and space to process your emotions before talking about them with your kids.
My teenager doesn't want to talk about it. What should I do?
Respect their need for space while making it clear you're available. Teenagers often process through friends, journaling, or creative outlets rather than direct conversation with parents. You might say: "I understand you might not want to talk right now, and that's okay. I'm here whenever you're ready. And if you'd rather talk to someone else, like a counselor or another trusted adult, that's completely okay too."
How much detail should I share about treatment?
For younger children, keep it simple: "Mom is taking medicine that might make her tired and could make her hair fall out, but it's helping her body fight the cancer." For older children and teens, you can share more about chemotherapy, surgery, or other treatments if they want to know. Let their questions guide how much detail you provide.
You're Already Doing Something Important
If you're reading this, you're thinking carefully about how to support your child through something incredibly difficult. That matters.
You won't get every conversation perfect. That's okay. What matters is that your child knows they can come to you, that you'll tell them the truth, and that they're not facing this alone.
If your family needs support navigating a cancer diagnosis, or if you or your child is struggling to cope, our practice specializes in trauma, grief, and therapy for children and families. Please reach out for a free consultation to explore whether we might be a good fit. You don't have to have it all figured out before you call. I look forward to connecting with you.
About the Author
Jordyn Levine, LCSW
Jordyn Levine, LCSW (CA #101755), is a therapist and founder of a group practice based in West LA. She takes a collaborative, trauma-informed approach that is warm, relational, and evidence-based, with specialties in trauma, anxiety (including OCD/health anxiety and panic), grief, life transitions, and parenting.