What a few days...

Well, it's been a crazy few days and I feel like I've been on an emotional rollercoaster! It all started...

Friday
Drove down to London to join Alex who'd been stuck down there on his own since Wednesday morning, supervising works to get the flat finished. We met for a lovely lunch at Café Rouge (not very original I know!) for a lovely three year anniversary lunch. We then chilled out in the flat for a few ours, in a scene reminiscent of Trainspotting - deserted flat with nothing but a blow up mattress on the floor - we lovingly referred to it as the Birch House crack den! After a spot of lovely dinner at the Hamer-Knight's (thanks ladies!) we headed to the Wickham for night of karaoke and goodbyes at the Wickham Arms. Everyone had a great time except me, who felt like death warmed up and was in agony most of the night with a very tight bump - oh the joys of being heavily pregnant!

Saturday
We headed off to what we thought would be our last London antenatal, but never quite made it there. I'd been feeling sick and dizzy and had horrible stomach cramps since about 4am, so we decided to head to the doctors instead. It was closed and the Walk-in Centre was a Walk-Out Centre...as they won't see pregnant women. So instead we were told to go to the Anderson Suite at Lewisham Hospital. The Anderson Suite turns out to be labour ward, a terrifying place to be when you're feeling ill and not in labour! This was compounded by being ushered into an actual delivery room, complete with scary bed-with-stirrups and what Alex referred to as 'the baby cooker'. The room was a dump - the wall was covered in mouldy plaster where the ceiling had leaked - less than two feet away from where women give birth on a daily basis! Put it this way, I'm bloody relieved that I'm not having my baby in Lewisham Hospital!

To cut a long story short, they utterly failed to investigate what was wrong, instead getting side tracked with my 'interesting' heartbeat, which was investigated and deemed OK a long time ago, by Lewisham Hosiptal! We finally managed to escape after 6 hours, none the wiser but happy that Dylan at least was OK. We then tried to race across London to get Al's scooter out of the shop before it closed. We failed. We drove back to Bromsgrove in the rain, very tired and in very bad moods.

Sunday
...was spent doing very little other than panicking about funding the electrical work on Birch House Towers and the move on Wednesday. I slept a lot. Al did some admin. We cuddled. I then had to put my very sad looking monkey on a train back to an empty London flat, with the prospect of not getting home until the early hours, and having to get up a few hours later to pick up the scooter before work. I've never seen my Alex look so sad! He says he got an OK night's sleep though, considering he's now on a mattress pad inside a sleeping bag, compared to the inflatable double mattress, duvet and pillows of last week.

Monday
Spent the morning ill again, feeling very sick and dizzy again, to the point I nearly passed out in the middle of Morrisons. Then Alex rang with the quote from the electricians. I cried. It turns out we will now miss the deadline to get the flat handed over to the council in order to get rent on 1st December, leaving us to find the Alcester rent and deposit, and the money for the electricians to find - around £3k! Funnily enough we don't have that... To top it off, the electricians won't be finished until Friday at the earliest, leaving me without my monkey for a whole week, and him sleeping rough in his own former-home. Not a great day so far.

However, as the day's gone on, we have a light at the end of the tunnel and might be sorted for the money and the estate agents have kindly pushed our move date back a week, so at least our Alcester rent day will always follow getting the rent from Birch House, from January. Saw my new midwife, Ros, too who is a)competent and b)lovely - PHEW!!! She seems to think that my sickness and dizziness is a bug, which makes sense. She's got all my records transferred over and has referred me to 'the Alex', my new hospital AND I'm on fortnightly appointments at last. Dylan is all good, though apparently I have to start using the gym ball to encourage him to start engaging a little more, mainly so I'm more comfortable. He's still head down though, and according to my notes, 2/5 engaged... which is contrary to what the midwife actually said, so I need to get that clarified on the 7th.

To round off the good news, I've managed to transfer our NCT antenatal classes to Bromsgrove, with the possibility of transferring again to Stratford, if a place becomes available - though I'm not hugely worried if I can't, as we can meet Alcester people at the two parentcraft classes we are going to in December.

So there we go, what a few days eh? At least we haven't lost the Alcester house entirely, we'll just be in a week later after some financial jiggery-pokery! And Dylan, as ever, is happy and well and doing grand! I just wish I was with Alex... I miss him already...