It didn't go so well.
She clung to him, screaming. "Don't go, Daddy! Stay with me!" (I swear she'd rather walk the Kokoda Track with him than let him out of her sight.)
As we drove off she was still crying. "I want my Daddy... *sob*... my special Daddy!"
I held it together enough to have her forgetting her tears within five minutes. Another five minutes and she was giggling, and we talked about silly things and laughed the rest of the way.
It was only when we got home that it really hit me.
The thing that probably annoys me most about my husband is the mess he makes in the kitchen. I can have it sparkling clean, but the minute he walks in there are dishes strewn everywhere, crumbs all over the bench, food left out and, worst of all, tiny specks of freshly ground coffee creating a film-like cover over every surface.
Today I cleaned the kitchen. Stood back and looked at it and started bawling. He won't be here to mess it up for almost two weeks.
Perpetual tidiness is a weird fantasy of mine - but it's actually a very lonely reality.
I had thought a lot about how I'd cope physically, how I'd get my work done (which is, probably not at all!), how I'd distract Abbey - everything but how much I'd miss him.
It took a little time, but then I was able to do what I needed to: remember that this needn't be about time without him, but more about time with my little girl. Over the next two weeks she needs a mum who's here in every sense of the word, and I need her.
So I spent the rest of the day playing hide and seek, reading stories, snuggling on the couch watching a favourite movie and chatting.
And today looked pretty much the same.
It's only two weeks. One day at a time.