The Second Year Felt Worse!

As I had dinner the other night with a few other moms who have lost children, one of them mentioned how hard year two was compared to year one. I’ve heard other moms say this before — and it was true for me, too.

So I wanted to share a little about what I’ve learned — both through my own journey and through my studies to become a grief coach. My counselor also helped me understand this when I was walking through my own second year of loss.

During that first year, we often look back on significant dates and moments and can still visualize our child being there. Maybe you remember Christmas morning and can see them sitting in their favorite spot. Maybe you think of your last vacation together, their last birthday, or that last ordinary day when life still felt whole.

But then comes year two.

When those same dates and moments roll around again, reality hits in a new and painful way. This time, when you look back — they aren’t there. You can’t picture them at the table, on that trip, or celebrating that special day. The memories you once held close start to feel like a lifetime ago, and that realization is gut-wrenching.

That was exactly how I felt.

On my second Christmas without my daughter, we made cinnamon roll waffles with her son — a tradition she had started just the year before. As we cooked together, the absence of her laughter filled the room in a way I can’t describe.

For her second birthday in Heaven, we celebrated by going to a concert. And as I looked back, I remembered that the year before, we had done our first balloon release with her little boy. Year two was when it truly sank in — I couldn’t look back and imagine what I was doing with her the previous year anymore.

That’s why year two hits so hard.

I’ve read and been told by both professionals and other grieving moms that year two is often the hardest — harder than year one, and in many ways, even harder than all the years that follow.

I’m only in year three now, but I can tell you with certainty that year two was my toughest. The shock had worn off, and the permanence of her absence settled in.

So, if you are in the midst of your year two, hold on. If you’re still in year one, I know this sounds harsh, but I want you to be prepared — because I wasn’t. Surround yourself with people who will carry you through when you can’t carry yourself.

That’s exactly what Broken to Beautiful is all about. I want to walk beside you. I want to help build a community where no mom ever has to face year two alone.

We can’t change what happened, but together, we can learn to breathe again, love again, and slowly find beauty — even in the brokenness. 🌻

With love,
Jessica
The Schuylar Barnes Foundation | Broken to Beautiful