This year Amma died.

I am about to turn 42 in another fortnight. 

This year 

Amma died. 10 minus 2 weeks ago on 24 April, in her sleep. Daddyji says he heard her wake up in the middle of the night and start chanting Om. But how do I remember her date of passing, down to the week? The date because I looked it up, but weeks since her passing because she died the same morning I was having the eggs retrieval procedure in Sydney.  And now I am nearly 10 weeks pregnant. 

I am scared to talk about my pregnancy - you don't get to 42 without having gone thru some weird times yourself or hearing about friends having difficult times during their pregnancies.. I think the odds are still that I should be okay, the baby will be okay. 

But to take my mind off that, I am getting back to buying a new property. What is making my mouth water is that while houses in gandaroo cost 1.5 million dollars, you can get a 2000+ block of land for about $500k. Nothing like having one thing to obsess over to stop from obsessing over another thing. 

Work is feeling a bit rough. I think it is a constant feeling of picking yourself up again after having a knockdown. why do i say that? because the deadlines are stupid, and so you are constantly rushing and you never feel like you succeed. i am definitely burnt out - or just tired - or burnt out. 

in the meantime, the first step to getting the mortgage is to get the apartment decluttered. and after weeks and weeks of unbelievable pregnancy-first-trimester fatigue, I was actually able to do things yesterday. Did quite a lot of house work yesterday in spite of waking up around 10 or 11am.. can't remember. pretty much didn't stop till 3.30pm, not even for a coffee, definitely not for a meal. 

So will I talk about Amma's passing? That her passing blessing for her favourite grandkid was to help her get pregnant? That after days of living with a sense of dread that I hadn't recorded her voice, she sang for me in my dream? That I am relieved that she doesn't have to wait for someone to take her to the toilet? That I am pissed off that Daddyji didn't let her move to Balwyn where Mama could have taken better care of her - where Daddyji is right now, getting better food, and hopefully not getting scream at by Mama and not being at the receiving end of whatever toxic stuff Mami does.

Will I talk about how I really need to heal my wounds from staying at Melbourne... too heavy a bag to carry. Hurt people hurt people. 

I feel alone, so many things would have been easier if I had a reasonable enough partner. Getting pregnant, buying a house, being able to afford a good house on a good block of land. I have started saying to myself that for my dreams, goals, I get help from the Universe - not from any person, the Universe. And as long as I have that, I will be okay, I will be safe. 

I will be safe, Chicory is safe, baby is safe, Mummy and Papa are safe.

Mummy is going for her knee replacement surgery today. tests today. surgery tomorrow. i wish i was there. I can't be because no one can take care of C while I go.