Grand plans unfulfilled

I'd be planning her first birthday party by now. Knowing me, the invites would be out already. I know for sure they would. I always like to get invites out for a big event two months prior - that's just how I roll. And this certainly would have been a big event. Oh my god, it would have been so much fun. I know just how much fun, because I have been to four million first birthday parties already. I see how the child's eyes light up. And I see how the parents' eyes light up even more. Of all the things I am pissed about, I am pissed I don't get to experience this. It is so beyond unfair, it is not funny. All I wanted to do was hold my baby as she attempted to blow out one measly candle. All I wanted to do was watch her as she had her first taste of sugar, and all sorts of nasty food colourings packed in to the icing of her first birthday cake. Chances are I'll get to do this again, but I still want to do it with her. And I'll never get that chance. Ever.

I don't really know what we would have done or where we would have had her party. Our place is really small, so I'm not sure it would have been here. Because you know, so many people would have been invited. All those friends I once had. The ones who were happy to talk to me day in day out some months back. The ones who shared every single step of the pregnancy with me. And so many of those friends, have now disappeared. If I have a 30th birthday party in September, I know I'll be able to have it here at home, because our guest list has been slashed as a result of our loss.

Perhaps it would have been at Mum's. It is much bigger at her place, and was the venue of my baby shower almost 12 months ago. She's used to having family parties at her place, and I know this is one party she would have loved to host. The first birthday party of her first grandchild. It would have been the greatest party she's ever hosted for sure.

Or maybe a park or play centre? I don't know. August is so cold here, so that might not have been an option.

But what I do know is, I would have had so much fun working it all out and making all the plans.

The only plans I'm making now are to get away for a few days during THAT week in August.

North, where it is hot, where we are far, far away. Where there are beaches, rainforests, nice restaurants and complete anonymity.

It is not something we would have ever dreamed of doing in a million years had she been here. But she's not, so I want to try and run away from it all. And I want to take this baby away, too. Hope came on three wonderful interstate holidays with us last year, this baby deserves one at the very least.

I just can't stand the thought of being home. Of waiting for the day to come, waiting for it to pass, all the while trying to find something meaningful and poignant to do for her birthday, non-birthday, anniversary, angel day, death day or whatever it is I am supposed to call it.

I don't want cemeteries. I don't want a fake cake. I don't want balloon releases or candles or anything, I just want her here. And nothing in the world can bring her back, so I want to run away. I want to do something indulgent. I just want to be with Simon and this new baby.

I have spent weeks trying to book this damn holiday. I have looked for every cheap flight imaginable. I have researched every cheap accommodation option. I have visited a travel agent to try and get a better deal. I have trawled websites, waited for sales to be announced. I am such an expert on holiday options to our tropical north right now, all the while thinking it is theme ideas for little girl's birthday parties I want to be an expert on.

But I just can't seem to book anything.

This has been another lovely gift of babyloss to me - indecisiveness. Once upon a time, I was so impulsive. If I saw it, I liked it, I could afford it - I bought it. I pretty much booked my whole wedding that way. I bought the first dress I tried on. I booked the first reception venue we looked at. Everything was done on impulse, and it all turned out fabulously. Her first birthday party was supposed to be the same damn it.

Now I can't seem to make up my mind. I think I know why, and that's because I don't want to be taking this holiday. I know I should not be taking this holiday. I can't stop thinking about what I should be doing instead. The thoughts swirling around are enough to send a girl crazy. I ask Simon what to do, and he just says "whatever you want dear". He's so sweet, but it is not helping.

And that's the other thing, we can't really afford this. Hawaii sucked us dry, and now we apparently have this new baby to think of and plan for. I am out of work and my insurance payments run out soon. Then we really will be on to one wage, with the distinct possibility of having one more mouth to feed, one more person to clothe and keep a roof over.

And I still can't get my head around this. That this all might actually work out. That this baby might actually come home and use all of that unused stuff in the nursery. That I might not have to make my milk dry up. That I might get to push the pram, use the sling, buckle the kid in to the car seat, introduce him/her to family and friends. Not invite them to a funeral.

Then I think maybe we should be putting aside all the money we would have spent on a party, her present and everything first-birthday related and donate it all to stillbirth research. But I feel so damn selfish right now. I guess in years to come I can do that, but this year, this first year, I need to do something just for us. And here I am always banging on about wanting to help people. About wanting to raise awareness and make our missing babies less invisible to the world. My grand plans for those things, will have to go on hold for this year. This year, is all about survival. And for some reason, survival to me this year means escaping.

I know if I don't book though, I will regret it. Like I said, I don't know how I am going to handle being here, at home, or anywhere in this state for that matter. I feel bad for my family. Bad that I am going to leave them high and dry at their time of remembrance and grief. I know they will feel deeply at this time. I know they will be remembering and mourning heavily with me, for all that should have been. But I need to run away, far, far away.

I just wish I wasn't doing any of this. I still wish I could wake up from this nightmare. I just hate that all the plans I had for her go completely unfulfilled. Every last one of them.