The Beginning

Last summer, when I was 8 months pregnant with son 2, my husband came up to me with an unusually shifty look in his eye. How would I feel about a move to Pakistan? Those who say that women’s brains don’t change when they’re pregnant are either (i) male or (ii) childless. My brain was obviously off on a jolly of its own and yearning for an adventure once broken free of the 8 ton bowling ball which had attached itself to my abdomen as I clearly made positive noises. A little while later and said hubby came in to announce that, next January, we were off to Islamabad. With two children under 3. Yikes. Son 2 was then born (not, I don’t think, as a direct result of the announcement, but you never can tell).

We were living with my parents at the time and I have to report that my mother was initially less than supportive. She’d be cuddling Son 2 on the sofa and I’d hear “I can’t believe they’re taking you to that place” (I will quickly add that what my mother knows little to nothing about Pakistan) and “You stay here with me” etc. It was like living with Goebbels. She was also adamant that there was no way that she’d be coming out to visit. My father, however, is a little more on the adventuresome side and said that he’d be out in a flash. This earned him a sideways look from my mother, a short ‘You’re jolly well not going without me’ and, lo, they’re booked in for next October.

In the meantime I set about preparing Sons 1 and 2 for the move. Our local GPs’ surgery were amazing and found out all sorts of things about vaccinations and the like. I don’t want to alarm you, but did you know that there’s a worldwide typhoid vaccination shortage? I know now. I didn’t before. I don’t mean to brag, but I’m pleased to say that they managed to nab a rare dose for me (brought in under armed guard in a briefcase handcuffed to the heavily armoured nurse) and for Son 1 (he was less than pleased about it), so come the typhoid epidemic we’re all right, Jack.

And so…once prepared…it was time to leave snowy Britain and head halfway across the world to our new home.