How to Prepare and Educate Your Child for Surgery
Your child has surgery coming up. You’ve been handed a stack of paperwork, rattled off post-op instructions, and told everything will “be fine.” But your child doesn’t speak in checklists. They speak in play, in questions, in nervous glances at your face to see if it’s okay to be scared. And let’s be honest: you’re scared, too—but you don’t want to show it. You want them to feel brave, informed, and seen. That’s where this starts.
Surgery—whether outpatient or more involved—is a big deal when you’re little. You can’t protect your child from every poke or unfamiliar machine, but you can help them feel prepared, respected, and emotionally safe. Here’s how to do that, without falling into the trap of “just be brave” or “don’t worry, it won’t hurt.”
Start With What They Already Know (and Fill in the Gaps Gently)
Kids are smart. They pick up on tension, whispered conversations, and quick glances between adults. Begin by asking, “What do you know about the hospital?” or “Do you know why we’re going?” Their answers might surprise you. Some children think surgery means you disappear. Others think “asleep” means “gone forever.” You don’t need to correct everything at once—just clarify one step at a time.
Use real words. “Surgery” is okay to say. So are “anesthesia,” “cut,” “stitches,” and “healing.” Water down the tone, not the facts. A sentence like, “The doctor will help fix the part that isn’t working the way it should, and you’ll be asleep so you don’t feel anything” is better than, “You’ll take a nap and wake up better.” Kids know the difference.
If possible, use visuals or tangible tools to support the explanation. Children respond well to images, real equipment (when available), or play-based materials that mirror their experiences.
Let Them Touch, Pretend, and Play the Process
Most parents try to explain surgery through talking. But talk only goes so far when you’re five. Children process through play. If you tell them they’ll have an oxygen mask, it’s still a scary plastic thing until they’ve put it on a teddy bear and made it snore.
Set up a pretend hospital. Give their favorite stuffed animal the same surgery. Let them tape on a line or wrap gauze. If they’re having a G-tube placed, show them one—on a doll if possible, but even a real photo is better than nothing. Walk through the steps: “This is the waiting room,” “Now the nurse checks your heart,” “Here’s where you sleep,” “Here’s what waking up feels like.”
That play builds predictability—and predictability shrinks fear. The goal is not to memorize every step, but to make the process feel familiar enough that it’s not overwhelming when it happens in real life.
Be Honest About What Might Feel Weird, Strange, or Painful
A hospital gown is weird. Sticky monitors feel strange. IVs hurt. Let’s not pretend otherwise. Children need permission to feel discomfort, to cry, and still be “brave.” In fact, courage without honesty isn’t courage—it’s performance.
Try:
“Some parts will feel funny—like when they put stickers on your chest to watch your heart.”
“The IV is a quick poke, then it stays in so the medicine can go in. It might hurt for a second, then your arm feels heavy or cold.”
“When you wake up, your mouth might feel dry and your body could be sore. But we’ll be there.”
Normalize the weird. Make space for the real. A child who expects the unexpected has fewer reasons to panic. Children who know what sensations to expect are often better able to cope when those sensations arrive.
Involve Them in the Prep (and the Packing)
Let your child pack a “hospital bag,” even if it’s just for day surgery. Give them a sense of control: a favorite blanket, toy, pajamas, or even lip balm. Explain what each item is for. The process helps them feel included, not passive.
Some families include visual checklists or draw out timelines: wake up at home, drive to hospital, wait with games, go to sleep for surgery, wake up with mom or dad, go home. Visuals help younger children understand time and sequencing. And it gives you something to point to when nerves are high.
If you have a toy version of their medical equipment, let them bring it along. Hospital staff are usually very supportive of these tools. Seeing a familiar NG tube on a stuffed animal or a port on a doll can even help the care team build rapport.
Talk About What Happens After, Too
Kids often think the surgery is the end of the story—but recovery is a big part of their experience. Will they have to rest for a few days? Will there be bandages? Medications? Restrictions?
Frame it with achievable goals and reassurance: “Your job is to rest, take sips of water, and let us help you get strong again.” Be specific about any “rules”—like no running or lifting. And again, let play lead the way. Roleplay caring for the post-op stuffed animal. Change its dressings. Give it meds. Let your child see that healing is a process, not a switch.
If your child will need ongoing care (like a feeding tube or central line), early exposure to those tools through realistic play can reduce distress later. This kind of preparation can help normalize what comes next.
Say Goodbye to “Just Be Brave”
“Be brave” often gets translated in a child’s brain to “don’t cry,” “don’t talk about your feelings,” or “make it easier for the adults.” But true bravery looks like this: knowing something might hurt, and going anyway. Asking questions. Needing a hug. Saying “I’m scared,” and letting a grown-up hold space for that.
So instead of “be brave,” try:
“It’s okay to be nervous.”
“You can cry, and I’ll still be here.”
“Let’s do this together.”
These statements invite emotional expression instead of suppressing it. Children need emotional safety as much as physical safety.
Use Stories, Books, and Drawings
Some children respond well to hearing about others who’ve had surgery. Picture books, social stories, and even cartoons that depict medical care can help frame the experience in a way they understand.
Let them draw pictures of what they think the hospital looks like or what they imagine will happen. Drawing is another form of play—and a powerful tool for exploring fears or questions that may not be easy to say aloud.
If your child expresses fears through these drawings or stories, validate them: “That’s a scary looking machine. I can see why that part makes you nervous.” Then gently clarify and support them.
Check In Throughout the Process
Education and reassurance shouldn’t be a one-time thing. As the surgery date gets closer, check in again. Ask if they have new questions or want to go over what to expect.
Children often revisit information as they process it. What felt fine last week might be worrying today. Be available for these cycles. Use repetition without pressure.
And when the day arrives, do small things that help: give choices when possible (“Do you want to wear the red socks or the blue?”), bring something familiar, and stay close until the moment you can’t.
After the Surgery: Keep the Conversation Going
When your child wakes up, they may feel groggy, scared, or disoriented. They may cry. They may be upset or not remember where they are. Let them come around at their own pace, with gentle reminders that they are safe.
In the days that follow, keep talking. Ask how they’re feeling—not just physically, but emotionally. Do they remember the hospital? Was there anything that surprised them? Did anything feel worse—or better—than they expected?
This reflection helps children make sense of what happened. It also helps you catch any misconceptions that might have stuck around.
Know That You Are Part of Their Calm
No toy, chart, or explanation can replace the calm reassurance of a caregiver who shows up consistently. Your tone, your body language, your ability to say “This is hard, and I’m right here”—that’s what they’ll remember.
Children are remarkably resilient. With your support, they can walk into a surgical experience with a sense of preparedness—not because it won’t be hard, but because they know they’re not alone in it.
At The Butterfly Pig, we believe kids deserve to see their stories reflected in play. Our medical play support tools aren’t just cute—they’re designed to help kids prepare, participate, and process. Surgery might not be avoidable. But fear and confusion don’t have to be part of the package. When children understand their care, they feel stronger, safer, and more at home in their own skin—even when it’s healing.
Surgery isn’t easy. But with the right support, it can be empowering. Not because it’s fun or painless—but because your child learns they matter, their questions matter, and their body is worth understanding.