My son had just turned 5. I/we have never told him. I really think that is too young. On D-day I kicked my H out and his brief absence was explained to my son as 'daddy's working'. After 2 days my H wanted to 'work it out', but I still needed space. My H would come back home every night to tuck our son in and would return every morning so I could go to work and he would take our son to school. So things appeared appeared normal to him. It was my number one priority to protect him and for him to come out of 'our hell' unaffected.
There were times when I would watch my son sleeping and wonder what on earth I would say to him if things didn't work out. Tears would stream down my face and I would think, if only you knew what your father has put me/us through.
He idolises his dad and I would much rather he see the good than the bad, I don't want to be the one to spoil that.

Our story's not nearly as tragic, but may be just as telling. We long thought our relationship, and it's strains, weren't affecting the kids. In fact, we went out of our way to ensure they were "insulated" to any of our woes, and they haven't seen us fight, yell or do anything worse than scowl at each other.
When DDay came, we went into hibernation in our bedroom for about 6 weeks. Most of the time, we would come out and tell the kids what was going on, saying Mom and Dad were working on some problems, that adults have to do these things from time to time, etc. etc. My daughters are 17, 14 and 11, so we're not kidding ourselves. We know they can put two and two together. Old family friend no longer visits. Mom and dad have problems. Dad was always jealous. It doesn't take a genius.
Anyway, one night about 2 a.m. a cop knocks on the door and my middle daughter -- the flag girl, straight A student, student council, peer mediator, every one's friend and the "heart" of the family -- had snuck out of the house and over to a friend's house. Not to smoke or drink or have sex. Just to talk. About her parents. Because what they were doing was so different for them.

My oldest, also a straight A student, good job, runs Cross Country, became moody and distant and spent all her time with her boyfriend. Around week 6, she admitted to having sex with him. Shes' on the pill.

My 11 year old? Straight As, drama student, karate -- she was having a rough summer anyway with her best friend moving away and no other real friends in the area. So she sits on the couch. Watching Disney. Every day. And she reads all the time. She escapes.
Sadly, she reminds me of me when my parents had their "troubles."

That was week 6. Things have improved, largely because my FWS yanked us out of free fall. She's not totally reconnected to me, but she has returned to her kids, even more so than before the A, when she spent all her time with her "friends" and other associates rather than be home with me.
Me? I've finally quit using my kids as a surrogate friend/wife. They are my children, and I'm much more gentle and less prone to rush their "growing up" process. I'm letting them enjoy being kids.

Is it too late? Don't know. The scars, no matter how fine they may be, tend to take a long time to fade, if they ever do. But again, I don't see any way they wouldn't have been affected.
Oh, yeah I do. If my wife and I had talked to each other instead of OPs.

Chorus, it sounds like you are doing really, really well.

My goodness, your w sounds like a clone of me! One of the joys of recovery was/is re-connecting with the kids.

We had the same deal. Family "friend" disappeared completely. My kids were 11 and 14 then. H and I were basket cases and could hardly make a sandwich for ourselves. Somehow we all got through. My youngest--now 13 can be withdrawn and sometimes 15 still asks if we are Ok--I'm pretty sure she figured it out but doesn't want to deal with it. Life is so much better in most ways.

I don't wish it on anybody but it was truly a wake-up call to improve ALL our relationships in our family.

Thanks for your input.

Now, of course, there is this thought, and FWS and I have talked about it: When DO you tell the kids what happened? OR do you do it at all?

Let's make some assumptions here (and forgive me for playing what ifs, because that's a stupid game, but let's just go with it for now): You recover, your marriage is fine and you get on with life. Your kids are young enough to "get over it" but old enough to remember that weird time in mom and dad's life. That's going to cause some sort of ripple effect in their psyche.
Now they come to you, years later, and ask what happened way back when. What do you say?

My mom never told me, not until my dad was dead and many many years had passed. My sister knew, but only because she was old enough to understand what all the screaming was about.
I think it had a profound impact on me, and I can't say it would have been less or different had she talked to me.
I just remember my dad being gone.

Chorus, I've thought about that one A LOT.

My heart tells me that I need to tell the kids before they begin dating seriously. I also believe God may want me to share this some day in a public role so of course, I'm going to have to disclose to my kids.

I think my girls are strong and could take it but I don't feel like the time is right. I don't know how I'm going to know when it is. Maybe they will ask me and then I will tell them.

Even then, how much do I say? Our life took a major turnaround because I was suspended from ministry and then H took sick leave. The kids thought I was off due to stress. H's sick leave made sense because he took NO time during cancer treatment (one of the big mistakes that contributed to my poor choice). My church leadership (hierarchy) told me I wasn't welcome at my church so 13 and I attended a church while 15 and H continued at the old church for 3 wks--how did H get in the pulpit during that time--he was worthy but so beat up and the church hierarchy were betraying him those days--Thank You, God that's over!) Then 15 and H attended the new church with us.

We decided to resign our ministry and that meant we had to move. So the kids were resilient through all that and that absolutely cannot be covered up. Actually 15 was suicidal over the thought of transferring but made a recommittment of her faith in Christ soon after and began a turnaround. There are more kids her age at the new church we attend--actually, H is now on the ministry team and the new pastors believed in me, too and I give some leadership to the women.

What would we do without hope?