The joys of being far from home

My on/off tummy aches that I have suffered for the duration of this pregnancy have been occurring, not with increased frequency since I started resting a lot more, but with increased severity as the pregnancy has progressed. Last Saturday night was pretty awful and so I went to see the doctor on Sunday. Although the baby is fine and there is nothing apparently wrong with the set up, these pains are not normal so she has prescribed bed rest and suggested I head back to the UK sooner rather than later to be near my hospital and doctor there.

So as usual we have a rushed crisis - trying to book flights at the last minute - even knowing the sales director and CEO of an airline, this weekend is completely and utterly fully booked for direct flights to London.  As usual, there will be barely any time to prepare the new baby's things or get the new baby's space ready (we still don't know quite where we are going to put her - seems she will have to share the converted broom cupboard with our youngest, but I think we will delay that decision until after I get back). After all, a tiny baby will be in her moses basket in our room for a few months.

I know, I know, there is not much preparation for a new baby required, you only actually need to dig out a few baby grow tunic thingys and muslim cloths to look after a new born, but it goes right against my fairly strong nesting instinct not to turn the house upside down, wash all the clothes, have the full range of baby clothing sorted by age and size into appropriate and clearly labelled boxes. The thought of where everything is almost brings on a panic attack. There is stuff all over the place stuffed in here and there, following our chaotic start to living in Kazakhstan a year ago which I have still not gone and sorted out. So my fault for not being a totally anally retentive and organised housewife to start with, but equally, I was expecting to have a month with the older kids in school to be able to get all this stuff ready for the new one to arrive. And now I will be in the UK.

And it may sound a bit wet, but I will be away from the older kids for the whole of their half term of school which is ages long, and I feel so bad that I won't be there for them. The little one will be bereft without her sisters (indeed any playmates) for so long, and I will be without my husband who is my total rock. Oh, moan moan moan.

Anyway, there is nothing to be done, we will just have to put up with it and focus on the fact that this is the last time I will be pregnant and life will be back to some semblance of normal (whatever that is supposed to be) by about April time.