Year Two

As we reach the finish line of Year One Without Ava, I'm reminded that this means it's only the beginning of Year Two Without Ava. This scares me, because I've heard from various sources that the second year is harder than the first.

When I first encountered this news, it was soon after Ava's death, and I couldn't imagine anything being harder than what I was going through. We still had very little news about what exactly had caused her death, how big a role we (or our genes) had played, and what the statistics were for trying again. The uncertainty coupled with the pain of my recent surgery as well as the pain of our recent loss isn't anything I could ever bear again, much less something worse.

So, in many ways, I do not think Year Two or Year Three or any other Year will ever be as hard as the Year One.

And yet.

I think I know what they mean and I think I can explain it.

The first few months after Ava's death were unendurably, unimaginably hard. But then, inexplicably, things started to get better. And when I say "better," I simply mean that I got used to how much it hurts and was able to finally distract myself. With sewing. With starting work again. With getting laid off and transitioning to being an unemployed housewife. With cooking. With "Doctor Who." With whatever didn't allow me to collapse into uncontrollable sobs.

As time went on and I began to "not get over it, but get used to it," I got really good at blending distraction with acceptance. I finally began to have days (whole days! at a time!) that I didn't cry, when I could look at Ava's picture on our mantle and just smile. Things did begin to get better.

But as we're closing in on her 1st birthday (just 8 days from now), I'm feeling myself on less steady ground. I do cry more often, but not as often as I did when I first came home from the hospital, empty-handed except for a hospital blanket I still keep under my pillow. I'm starting to look forward to getting pregnant again, but can't talk about her without tearing up. I think this is what they mean when they say the Second Year is harder than the First. It isn't harder, the pain simply starts over again. As you re-cycle through the seasons, you kind of relapse into a diluted version of those same emotions. Like this:

1         2

\

  \          \

    \          \

      \          \

        \          \

If Year One's pain level started way up there, then receded into a form of "acceptance," then Year Two cranks that pain back up. Maybe not all the way back up, but still up.

And I think I've figured out why.

Allow me to explain with a little illustration. I had a C-section. Now, I don't know if you've ever had a C-section before, but if you have, you'll know why we want to punch anyone who says "Oh, you took the easy way out" right in their stupid throat. C-sections are NO. JOKE. Simply getting up to go to the bathroom was--to date--literally the most physical pain I've ever felt in my entire life. That's why they keep you flowing with all those painkillers at first. They give you the little button to push every 6 minutes or so, to keep you from feeling anything. Then, as you start to heal, you switch to taking pills every few hours, then every several hours, then not at all. 

My emotional pain was kinda like that. When I first came home from the hospital, I sobbed almost hourly. I would sob for a few minutes, then my brain would just kind of wander off and start me thinking about something else. As if it was giving me a type of emotional painkiller. Then, as I healed, I would feel the pain (not as intensely, but still pain) for longer periods of time. The sharper pain of Year One that was constantly being repressed by distraction has settled into a dull, painkiller-less ache. So, it's simultaneously stronger and lesser than the pain of last year.

I honestly don't know what 2014 has in store for me--maybe another pregnancy, maybe an adoption--but I'm not scared anymore of it being worse than the last year has been. And I'm also under no illusions about it being easier.