MUD Make-up Designory Europe, Ljubljana Video May 5, 2015, 10:45am
Five make-up trends leading for brides. Sneak peek at our bridal photoshoot at the Opera in Ghent!
MUA: Vanja Djuran (MUD EU), Niek Vermeersch (MUD BE)
Designer: Nicky Vankets
Models: Models Office Brussels
#Bride #Bridal #Makeup #Ghent #Opera #Photoshoot #MUD MY BLOG | Moments Moments
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Die laaste lag …
Ek lag baie … veral hoe ouer ek word. Maar dit voel asof die klok my koggel. Elke dag is die tik-tok net ‘n rapsie vinniger en lag ek ‘n bietjie meer. Maar g’n mens kan vier-en-twintig uur aanmekaarlagenlagenlag … dis soos om die honderd meter in een sekond te hardloop!!! Hoe flippen vinnig kan een mens dan wees???
Maar gisteraand het ek werklik gelag dat die trane rol …zero to 100!
Ons dreig nou al weke om movies toe te gaan, maar ons werk net te hard. Genadiglik sluip daar ‘n blaaskansie tussen die werk deur en ons eindig op in “Old Dogs” … John Travolta en Robin Williams … die trane het gerol … my maag het gepyn. Op een stadium raak die twee se ouman-pille deurmekaar en die side-effects is skreeusnaaks. Nee regtig, ek sal dit weer gaan kyk, nét om daardie scene te sien.
En so word ek vanoggend wakker met ‘n lag in die kies en terwyl ek die kantoor oopsluit wonder ek ook side-effects en pille. Want sien, in die week maak Jean ‘n draai hier en ek het amper omgeval toe ek sien hoe stunning sy lyk. Neeeeee …. flihippin amaaaazing!!! Ons sien mekaar so een of twee keer per jaar, maar sy het 30kg in die laaste 9 maande verloor. Geniun !! 30 …
Kyk, tyd vir werk was daar nie – sy moes eers die secret deel. Hoe de … het jy dit gedoen, wat het jy gemaak, what the f@#$%k is die secret! Jean blom van oor tot oor en ek sit gereed met my pen … deel moet sy deel.
Kyk, name mag nie genoem word nie, maar daar was pille by betrokke … duur pille en die goed is glo so wonderlik en amazing, jy hoef nie te diet, te oefen, te niks … jy sluk net een pil per dag! En rat-ta-da-daaa, jy smelt soos ‘n ysblokkie in die son! Nee regtig, ‘n ysblokkie in die son sê ek jou!
Nou teen daardie tyd het ek al name, websites, telefoonnommers … the works … bo-oor oorspronklike dokumente neergeskryf – is mos te lui vir filing en my boekhouer gaan my vermoor!!!!!! Maar ek worry nie, want ek is ‘n flippen ysblokkie … en ek worry nog minder oor hoeveel dit gaan kos, want as jy mos nou pille sluk dan hoef jy nie kos te koop, so my budget gaan klop en ek verloor sommer net daar op die spot ‘n kilogram van opgewondenheid.
Great!!! Die secret is uit … rooi geskribbel oral oor en ek voel reg vir die somer.
Maar ek is mos nou ‘n hoogs-intellegente wese met super-powers … rat-ta-da-daaa, so ek vra darem of daar side-effects is. Kan jy nou meer … ek vra ‘n sukses-kandidaat uit oor side-effects. Regtig? Jy word net baie dors? Ag maar dis nou geen probleem, want ek drink juis te min water volgens al wat ‘n kenner is en hier is mos ‘n water-cooler op my lessenaar … steek net die ou armpie uit. En nog … OH, jy moet dit net vroeg in die oggend drink sodat jy nie in die aand wakker lê. Wonderlik!!!! Ek slaap juis so min en staan reeds so vroeg op so kom ek slaap sommer gladnie! Ag fantasies … ek gaan soooo produktief wees.
En nog? vra ek … “Ag nie juis iets wat ek kan onthou nie” ….mmmhh, moet tog gaan hoor wat sê Google oor Alzheimers.
Alles klink net te goed vir woorde … maar hier staan sy … 30kg ligter … dit moet mos werk!!!
Ek wonder al jare oor die woema wat in pille is … net so ‘n klein ou dingetjie en siedaar!! As jou kop pyn, dan sluk jy so ‘n ou wittetjie, as jou maag seer is so ‘n ou geletjie, ‘n blouetjie vir die baarmoeder en aan die einde van die reënboog was nog nooit ‘n pot goud.
Maar dit moet tog werk, want as jou kopseer kan weggaan kan jou boude seker smelt??? Maar selfs Houdini was bekend daarvoor dat hy vreeslik skepties was … kul jou hier en kul jou daar.
Maar wie van ons het nognie ‘n pil gesluk en die effek OF side-effects daarvan gevoel? Selfs die uwe ek het al so ‘n stel of twee afgetrap …
Eendag was ek regtig baie siek … so siek dat ek van die een dokter na die ander was en op ‘n stadium enigiets sou sluk om net beter te voel. En ‘n sekere mens wie se naam ek nie hier kan noem voer my toe sommer ‘n ou pilletjie wat glo werk vir elke skeet en kwaal. En ek sien sommer hoe deins ‘n paar van julle terug …. hmmmm, ook die ou pilletjie by DIESELFDE persoon gekry … hierdie kan nie ‘n pil genoem word nie man!!! Dis flippen drugs, sê ek jou!!!
“Ag Talanatjie, sluk net hier. Jy gaan nou beter voel.”
Hoogs intellegente wese sê ek jou!!! Ek moet net môre my Ik laat toets – Eistein se m*@r!!!!
Al wat ek onthou is hoe ek probeer het om in die gang af te loop – drie trappies vorentoe, stamp die koppie teen die muur, halftreetjie terug. Ek kry nou nog so ‘n nervous twitch as IEMAND WIE SE NAAM EK NIE HIER GAAN NOEM!!!! my ‘n pilletjie wil gee. Persoon X het gaan eksamen TIK met so ‘n pilletjie agter die blad … matriek TIK eksamen!!!!! Sy vertel nou-nog hoe sy met ‘n grin op die gesig die tikmasjien se armpie heen en weer geswaai het en met haar polsies op ‘n knop getrek, getik het as if there is no tomorrow ….Y het uitgepass, net so met haar een voet in die skoen toe sy dit probeer aantrek het – net so vorentoe!!!
Van Z wil ek nie eens praat nie!!!! Daar was drank by betrokke en die volgende oggend sit hy nog net so op die kampstoeltjie en lyk asof 22 van die 23 chromosomes hom spontaan verlaat het.
Ek leer ook nie, want ek vat toe eendag … uit eie vrye wil !!!!!!!!!!! ….stuff (oh f@#$k hulle gaan my toesluit) omdat ek superfiks wil word in een oefensessie … vir drie dae kon ek nie sluk nie!! Het gevoel of ek poeier geëet het en om nie eens te praat van loop nie. Het so geoefen, want die “stuff” gee jou korttermyn geheueverlies – JY VERGEET JY RAAK moeg!!!!!! Never ever ever ever again!!!!
Hoog intellegent né!
Vanoggend val ek van my stoel af soos ek lag oor die side-effects wat ons familie al getref het … en ek vra vir Google of pille boude kan laat smelt.
Nou-ja, buiten ‘n pil en ‘n other stuff ….
is daar niks waarvoor ek skrik nie!!
Posted in Amazing stuff | Comments Off
Baby Dewan changed their lives
Both Ansu and DW Botha are in their thirties and knew what they wanted from life. Ansu is a business consultant and DW has an aluminium factory. They are proud parents to their special baby Dewan, whose birth changed their lives in so many ways.
“First the romance, the perfect wedding and blissful married life! Then in 2008, brought the big question – to have or not to have children. At 32 years of age and me with problems like endometriosis, it seemed time was limited and we decided to see what happens. We were ecstatic to fall pregnant within a month! Unfortunately, on 6 April 2008, the pregnancy ended in a miscarriage at 8 weeks.
We decided to let nature take its course and were very surprised to be pregnant again 7 weeks later. Though determined not to be anxious about miscarriage I was terrified when I again experienced bleeding at 7, 9 and 11 weeks. I only truly started feeling pregnant when I started showing at 16 weeks and found out that we were expecting a boy.
As clear as amniotic fluid
At 26 weeks I awoke one morning surrounded by a clear, wet patch in bed. Not knowing what to think I called my doctor for an appointment, but tested negative for an amniotic fluid leak. The leaking continued and a week later I went for another check up with the same results – this time I was labeled paranoid. At 28½ weeks it tested positive for amniotic fluid and I had to be admitted to hospital immediately. We were allowed to go home and pick up some ‘stuff’. What a new meaning to a simple word like ‘stuff’! What to pack for an unexpected baby?! We rushed around the house in a frantic panic, grabbing whatever seemed practical at the time although with hindsight was definitely not! DW grabbed an old backpack from his free roaming days for the baby’s things, the label reading “Animal Active”. This became the permanent nappy bag amidst much humour!
I received steroid injections to mature the baby’s lungs as well as medication to suppress premature labour. On 20 December 2008 – the due date of my first pregnancy and 30 weeks into this one – I was off to theatre for a Caesarean section, as it seemed that infection had set in. Everything happened very quickly. My husband was still fumbling with the camera, when the anaesthetist said that this was the moment if he wanted to take some pictures – the baby was emerging! With very soft but determined cries Dewan, our little miracle, met the world at 15h08, weighing a whole 1,6kg. We held him for a quick photo, after which he was rushed off to NICU, with his dad in tow.
Anxious, overjoyed, humbled
DW had various updates and cell phone pictures for me throughout the afternoon. Dewan was a little fighter and had to be sedated for the intubation! I was finally wheeled in to see my baby at 19h00 that evening and was stunned at his size, at how fragile and strange he seemed. The rhythmic ‘purring’ of the oscillator, joined by an undirected orchestra of beeps and shrill sounds, with bright neon lights adding to the impersonal and cold atmosphere – it took some courage to reach out and touch Dewan. Amazingly, his little hand immediately responded with a firm grasp of my finger. While his fragility was emphasised by all the tubes and pipes, he was still an emotional little human being, eagerly responding to comforting touch. I felt completely overwhelmed by this unfamiliar, different world of whose existence I’d never really known. I realised how fragile pregnancy and the life created within really is and that, although pregnancy is not an illness, it should be respected and handled with the greatest of care to preserve the miracle of life inside.
By the next day I was determined to become mobile so that I could visit Dewan. I felt an intense need to let him know that he was not alone, to comfort him with my familiar voice, to soften his new world of harsh lights and noises. We sat with him, not knowing how or where to touch. I studied him from top to toe. While I don’t know what I had expected, I was amazed at how complete and perfectly formed Dewan was, though his skin was see-through and his body was covered in lanugo, making him look other-worldly and more vulnerable.
Spot the NICU Mom
I quickly adapted to the NICU routine and the constant expressing. You can spot a NICU mommy from a mile away – they all carry a ‘six pack cooler box’ with precious cargo! It felt like I was permanently busy with my breasts. I had to treat them with care and express every 3 hours. For half an hour before I warmed them to soften lumps, expressed for half an hour and then applied cold packs and frozen cabbage leaves to cool and ease the angry inflammation, followed by a vigorous and painful rub with Arnica oil. The cabbage leaves were a source of some light relief, as my hospital room had a permanent odour that lifted many an eyebrow!
My days revolved around how Dewan was doing – did he pick up weight, were his feeds increased? He again proved his tenacity by being weaned off oxygen within 48 hours! He had a bout of jaundice and looked very cute under the lights with his protective goggles. After only one week, Dewan thankfully latched directly, although for only one breast feed a day to prevent weight loss from the sheer exertion of the task at hand.
A brain scan was done and detected small bleedings in both his ventricles. He had tremors in his legs, a possible sign of neurological damage or dormicum withdrawal. Once again we had to wait and see. To our great relief the tremors disappeared.
I was committed to kangaroo care and spent hours every day with Dewan on my chest, covered with a dark towel to provide him with some shelter from the harsh lights and sounds. Life settled into a routine and I spent most of my time on the hard NICU chairs, causing constant backache.
Dewan was discharged at six weeks, weighing 1,8kg and breastfeeding 8 feeds a day. We were welcomed by a vicious storm that first night, leaving us without power and fumbling to feed in the dark. The three hourly feeds took an hour and a half each, with loads of medication and vitamins having to be administered in between.
The preemie journey is a long journey. Dewan had a groin hernia repaired at 10 weeks (2,2kg). He started with colic at 12 weeks (most days crying – screaming really – for 8 to 10 hour stretches) and had such bad reflux that he needed a Nissen repair at 14 weeks, when he was just 3kg. The colic abated after 7 weeks, ironically right after we had a very bad accident coming from hospital. I rolled my car with Dewan inside. Yet another miracle – we weren’t hurt.
The journey continues with physiotherapy to assist with muscle balancing and speech therapy to desensitise his mouth and assist him with eating solids. He is now 9 and half months old (corrected 7 months) and an absolute joy!
A friend of mine phoned me in tears a few days after Dewan’s birth, ‘sympathising’ with our situation. What a negative experience, as we were so thankful that he was doing well. Dewan’s birth was the most rewarding experience of our lives and seeing our happy and bright baby provides us with constant happiness and fulfillment! We generally approach life with gusto and decided from the beginning that a positive attitude and a sense of humour to lighten the stress is what this experience called for – a decision that made all the difference in the world! ”
Posted in Birth stories | Comments Off
Vroeg oggend …
Ek het nog nooit baie slaap nodig gehad nie … en ek is ‘n oggend mens, kan dou-voor-dag uit die vere wees en as iemand vir my vertel hulle het tot na nege geslaap dan dink ek hulle is weird.
Vanoggend was dit weer so … half 5 spring my oë oop. Rol eers bietjie die kant toe, draai weer om, maak my oë toe … maar nee – oop wil hulle oop – en so kan ek nie net daar lê nie. Kombuis toe … drink die Coke Zero net so uit die bottel en gaan groet die honde. Hulle is altyd bly om my te sien. ‘n Mens sou dink ek was weg vir drie weke.
Op ‘n stadium het ons vier honde gehad … Borris, Madiba, Sera en Chrunchie.
In 1994 koop ons ‘n huis … ons eerste en ons is dillie van die opgewondenheid … Yummie … ‘n tuin wat lyk soos ‘n oerwoud, verf wat afdop, ‘n badkamerkassie wat met een skroef aan mekaar gehou word, teels wat gekraak is … ons was mal oor die plek – soveel potentiaal!!!!
Maar wat is ‘n huis nou sonder ‘n ou woefie … en so kry Borris vir ons. Hy was een van ‘n werpsel wat in ‘n boks op die hoek van die straat gelos is (tot vandag toe hoop ek die persoon wat dit gedoen het is met ‘n paal oor die neus geslaan). Borris het sy pad tot by ‘n huis gevind waar die ander honde hom nie vreeslik geduld het … en daar vind hy ons, met sy rooibruinliggeelmmmmm scruffie-dhogg lyfie, die grootste ore wat ek nog ooit aan ‘n hond gesien het, wit ooghare … ok, julle het dit uitgefigure … hy het ietwat soos Borris Becker gelyk – vandaar die naam Borris … en so reguit in ons harte in.
Nou watter hond kan nie geleer word om die balletjie te gaan haal as jy dit gooi? Hmm, kom nou … alle honde kan dit mos doen. Waar’s ‘n bal, waar’s ‘n bal … ok kan nie nou een kry, so kom ons gooi sommer een van die suurlemoene wat hier aan die boom groei, hmm – dit kan mos net so goed werk.
Daar trek die suurlemoen … daar trek Borris weg … sy eerste dag by sy nuwe huis – hy gaan beslis hierdie klomp impress … vanaand is dit steak!
Die f@$$en bal proe $%$!!!!! Liewe hemel, hoe gaan die steak proe!!!! Ok, kom ons probeer weer, want hierdie suur bal los ek net hier. Daar trek die suurlemoen … daar trek Borris weer vol moed weg …. steak, steak, steak, steak, steak …. %$% !!!!!
En nooit weer !!!!! In 14 jaar kon ons Borris nooit weer kry om enigiets te gaan haal wat ons gooi!!! Ons kon ‘n stuk steak vat, maar as jy dit gooi sit hy net hier langs jou ek kyk jou aan met so ‘n ietwat neus-in-die-lug houding … ek is defnitief te slim vir hierdie familie.
‘n Paar weke gelede sit ons almal een aand na ete om die tafel en gesels en so eindig ons by Borrisstories … elkeen het ‘n ietsie of ses om te vertel en ons rol soos ons lag.
Een van die beste stories ooit, was die return-van-die-varkkop …
Borris was rough and tough!!! Niks het om ooit onder gekry, geen heining (maak nie saak waarvan dit gemaak is) hek (maak nie saak hoe na die ysters aan mekaar was) of muur (hoe hoog ookal) kon hom inhou, die wêreld was sy kuierplek, hy was die baas! As hy die dag besluit het hy doen iets of gaan iewers, kon jy maak wat jy wil … hy doen dit!!!!!!
So sit ons een aand op die stoep, drink ‘n rooiwyn, gesels oor die dag, lag vir ons eie grappies … en iets vang my oog. Nie iets wat ek elke dag sien nie, beslis nie eens elke week of maand nie. Nou kyk, die rooibruinliggeelmmmmm scruffie-dhogg lyfie wat probeer terug “spring” het in die erf was nie ongewoon … dit was ‘n gemaklige gaping vir Borris, so twee-drie hoppies en hy is op die muurtjie en deur die heining.
Hop hop spring … nee, hy maak dit nie. Hop hop spring … nee, beslis nie. Nog so ‘n paar probeer hoppe, maar nee, vanaand gaan hy dit nie maak nie. Nou begin ons al nader staan … Hy kom so net-net op die muurtjie, maar beslis nie deur die heining … iets pla, iets in sy mond is te groot om deur die heining te druk …. ‘n flippen varkkop !!!! Waar in die middel van Pretoria kry ons hond ‘n varkkop???
Oh no, baie beslis gaan jy nie ‘n varkkop in hierdie huis inbring Borris!!!! Met ‘n gestoei en ‘n gepluk het ons die varkkop. Asblik toe, yuk !! Borris kyk ons aan asof ons mal is … my varkkop, julle het my varkkop gesteel, gee terug die kop!!!!!!
Nee Borris! Hier trek ons die streep!
Tot vandag toe kon ek dit nog nie uit-figure het hoe hy die kop uit die asblik gekry sonder om die asblik om te stamp. Maar die volgende oggend was die kop weer daar … perspienk, vol gras en grond en Borris kouend aan ‘n oor of iets. Ons was byna mal … stoei, pluk, raas … die keer in ‘n checkers sak, in ‘n ander sak en ons betaal iemand om die kop in ‘n asblik (baie ver van hier) te gaan gooi.
Goed so – weg is jou kop, gaan eet jou hondeblokkies en borsel sommer jou tande ook!!!
Drie dae later …. laa-la-laa-la-laaaaaa … almal is maar besig met stuffies in en om die huis …. laa-la-laa-la-laaaaaa … hop hop spring, hop hop spring!!!!?????????!!!!!!!!!!!!!!?????????? Ek ruk omtrent my nek af … en Borris ??? Hop hop spring, hek toe, ander hek toe, weer terug, hop hop spring, hek toe, druk druk, kan nie deur, hop hop spring …
Onf@kk$nmoontlik!!!! Drie dae later was die kop weer daar! Maar die keer was dit anders. Anders?? Die flippen kop is al pers-swart en dit stink so, neeeeeeee – stink is die understatement van die jaar!!
Ons raak mal, gil, smeek, betaal weer iemand (daardie maand was ons budget in sy dinges in) en met pennetjies oor ons neuse staan ons in totale verdwasing en skud net ons koppe oor die verskyning van die varkkop.
Borris is bosbef%k!!!! Sy kop is alweer afgevat!!!
Die kop raak die besprekingspunt om die eetkamertafel. Almal sug van verligting … die kop is uiteindelik weg.
Nou kyk, ons het nie ‘n klein huisie nie. Die plek is in 1906 gebou en met die jare het elke eienaar ‘n stukkie eie-ek hier aangebou. Hier is hoekies en draaikies en elke dan en wan ontdek ek self nog ‘n plekkie – asof dit net gister hier neergesit is. Jy kan lekker nomadies raak in die plek, want ons trek elke seisoen na ‘n ander kamer … nee regtig, dit is so!
Nou in daardie spesifieke seisoen … die een van die varkkop … het Adéle in die klein kamertjie, net langs die groot kamer wat langs die garage is, ingetrek … ok, almal het hulle dinge … en sy het doodgelukkig daar gebly… tot ‘n paar dae nadat ons uiteindelik van die pers-swart varkkop ontslae geraak het.
“Ma, iets ruik nie lekker daar naby by my kamer!” Adéle staan met haar hande op haar heupe en haar oë tot op haar voorkop opgetrek. “Iets vrot!”
“Nou maar maak skoon jou kamer.”
“Dit IS skoon. Kom kyk.”
Snuffend kruip ons deur die huis …
Ons ruik iets.
Ons raak mal van die reuk!!!
Nou sonder om te verduidelik presies hoe die hoekies en draaikies hier werk … het Adéle se kamervenster (op daardie stadium) oopgemaak na soort-van-buite-in-die-garage-wat-eintlik-nie-’n-amptelike-garage-genoem-kan-word …. en in hierdie soort-van-buite-garage-wat-eintlik-nie-’n-amptelike-garage-genoem-kan-word was ‘n hondehok. Een van daardie groot, groen asbes tipes … en in die grond, was daar ‘n gat, en in die gat was daar ‘n … VARKKOP !!!!!! Die flippen kop was in die hondehok – reg onder die kamervenster!
Ek hardloop, met trane in my oë van die reuk, tot in die anderkant van die tuin. Sewe miljoen vrae deur my kop … hoe kom die f@kk$n kop terug, hoe is dit moontlik, waar is daai flippen hond want ek gaan sy nek omdraai, hoe het die kop weer hier gekom, hoe het hy met die kop deur die heining gekom, hoe het hy geweet WAAR is die kop weggegooi, hoe, hoe, hoe???
“Maaaaaa, kom haal hierdie kop uit die hondehok.”
“Nee, ek gaan nie eens weer aan daardie kant van die huis kom. Ek gaan naar raak.”
Ons raak histeries aan die giggel … wie gaan die kop uithaal????
En so rol ons van die lag om die eetkamertafel. Die trane die rol oor jou bokkie, die trane die rol oor jou bokkie …
“Ma, ek sal nooit vergeet hoe ek binne in die hok moes inkruip om die kop uit te haal.” Dit was geniune ‘n groot hok.
Ons rol van die lag.
“Nee wag nou!”
Die trane rol oor my wange van die lag … my maag pyn.
“EK moes inkruip en die f@#$@%kk&%@n kop gaan uitsleep, want julle het net geweier en gesê julle bly baie lekker daar aan die ander kant van die huis!”
En almal rol van die lag … ons sit tot laat en stories vertel.
Vanoggend vroeg, met ‘n traan op my wang, mis ek hom vreeslik baie.
Ek sal vir hom tien varkkoppe gaan haal vir nog net een laaste scruffie-dhogg drukkie.
Vanoggend kry ek ‘n oproep … “Het jy gehoor Michael Jackson is dood?”
Ek dog eers dit is een van daardie grappies … “Het jy gehoor van die ou wat …” en ek wag in spanning vir die res van die Michael Jackson grappie. So in die gesels spring ek op Google (my precious) en ‘n lys van berigte spring op. Ja dit is so, Michael Jackson has left the building. En ek besef weereens hoe vinnig tyd verbyvlieg, want dit voel soos gister toe ek in my woonstel saam met my vriende al die Jackson moves probeer het. Ons het tevergeefs agteruit probeer sweef oor die mat, in die rondte gedraai en ons heupe gewikkel… die rooiwyn het ons meesters gemaak.
En nou jarrrrre later dink ek hulle sal die mental police bel as iemand sien ek probeer sulke moves uithaal. Ek dink ek sal lyk soos iemand wat verstik aan ‘n stukkie brood en mal van benoudheid probeer om die heimlich manoeuvre op myself uit te haal. Nee, ek wil nie eens daaraan dink nie.
Ek kyk na Michael se gesig wat oor die jare so verskriklik verander het. Ek dink aan die hoeveel emails wat ek al daaroor gekry het. Hoe die media vol was van sy misvormde gesig, sy weird en verwronge hunkering na aandag, sy obsessie met staatskos, maar dan dink ek ook aan sy musiek … Off the Wall, Thriller, Bad, Dangerous, History, Blood on the Dance Floor, Invincible en al sy ander Collection Albums en ek kyk verby die maskers en onthou die ongelooflike musiek. Want dit is, was en sal altyd wees. Michael sal onthou word saam met Elvis, John Lennon, Frank Sinatra, Freddie Mercury, Nat King Cole, Barry White, Luther Vandross, Johnny Cash, Janis Joplin, Ray Charles, Bob Marley, Luciano Pavarotti … om nie eens te praat van ons eie Miriam Makeba, Deon van der Walt, Gene Rockwell, Kobus du Plessis, Johannes Kerkorrel, Gé Korsten … en die lys is oneindig.
Vandag sê ek dankie vir musiek, vir die ongelooflike plesier wat dit verskaf, vir die golf wat ons wegvat na plekke waarvan niemand weet. Dit move ons, dit gee ons hoop, dit herinner ons aan die verlede, dit inspireer ons, dit bring ons nader aan mekaar.
En ek sê dankie vir tyd … ek wil elke oomblik wat ek het benut, ek wil elke sekonde laat tel. Ek wil moments capture, want soos Jacky altyd vir ons gesê het … “time waits for no man” en ek wonder hoe vol my uurglasie al geloop het.
Birth story of Keana Lottering : Born on 11 June 2008
Just over four months prior to my daughter’s birth, our family survived an armed robbery in our home during which my husband, Pieter was shot twice, seriously and I was shot in my hand. Our 3-year-old son, Kael did not sustain any physical injury and I was 5 months pregnant with our daughter at the time.
This is the story of my journey towards healing climaxed by the birth of our daughter, Keana on 11 June 2008…
I am woken up at 5am with my waters breaking. At first I wasn’t sure if it was amniotic fluid or my bladder emptying itself. As the fluid continued to flow I realised I had no control over it and it dawned on me that this is it, the day our daughter will be born. I woke Pieter up and told him what happened and he logged onto the Internet on his cell phone to do some quick research on how to be sure it was my waters that broke, as there were no contractions. We marvelled together at the power of technology although I wasn’t too happy when one search result returned information stating that once the amniotic fluid had ruptured, labour could last up to 48 hours. I was not keen on that idea and quickly stated the intention that I wanted to be home in time to watch Egoli at 18h30 with my baby in my arms! Shortly afterwards I felt slow, gentle waves moving through my belly. Each wave confirming that indeed, this was it, the day we had been waiting for.
Four weeks prior, I found myself sitting in my gynaecologist’s office crying my eyes out, on the verge of begging for a caesarean section. Mentally I felt totally unprepared for a natural delivery. The last four months were characterized by fear, fear for my husband’s life, my life and the lives of our children, fear of going to sleep, fear of being attacked again and fear that complications may develop in our unborn baby, due to the high anxiety I was feeling. I felt anguished mentally and had worked hard at processing what had happened to us while at the same time doing my best to remain calm and keep my strength for the sake of our baby girl. I was afraid of going into physical pain associated with labour and afraid that I would not be able to get through it and that I would give up half way through. My doctor listened to me and gently reassured me that I was in good hands with Heather and Margo (as I knew I was) and that he would be on stand-by for me. He told me that something “else” kicks in when a woman naturally delivers a baby and that I had done this before, to trust myself and to keep to my original intention for a natural delivery. I am so grateful for the wisdom and insight he gave me on that day as it allowed for me to experience one of the best days of my life.
That day was today. I had planned to use movement to assist with pain management and started bouncing up and down on my birth ball at home. I lit the candle we had received especially for this day and plugged my earphones into my phone. With each contraction I bounced and disappeared into the music I had selected for today. One of the most poignant was the song, ‘Absence Of Fear’ by Tori Amos. I cried as I listened to the words, each of them touching a place very deep inside of me.
“Inside my skin, there is this space
It twists and turns, it bleeds and aches
Inside my heart, there’s an empty room
It’s waiting for lightning, it’s waiting for you.
I am wanting, I am needing you here
Muscle and sinew, velvet and stone
My bones call to you, in a separate skin
Make myself translucent, to let you in
There is this hunger, this restlessness inside of me
And it knows that you’re no stranger, you’re my gravity
Hands will adore you through, all darkness and
They’ll lay you out in the moonlight and re-invent your name.
Inside the absence of fear.”
I had been carrying my daughter through the trauma and anxiety of the shooting and I knew that this song was for us. I was calling her to meet me in the absence of fear and to embrace this birth, her birth, with joy and delight. I felt a tremendous weight lift from me as I boldly bounced, cried and laughed my way into the journey ahead.
We drove to the Stork’s Nest and met with Heather at 11h00. She checked all our vitals and confirmed that we were 3cm dilated. Our friend Julie and her daughter, Jordan arrived to offer support and love for the road ahead. The room was filled with light and laughter and the innocence of a child already.
The contractions were still gentle and I was easily able to move through them and with them and marvel at the beauty of my body, as it knew exactly what to do to bring my daughter to me. Slowly the frequency and intensity of the contractions increased. Our friends Angela and Garrick arrived to offer support and Angela immediately took on the task of rubbing my back, my bum, my calves and legs to keep the energy flowing. She counted with us, moved with us and supported us beautifully and completely. Talana took on the task of photographer and took lovely photos of the labour process that I will cherish forever. Pieter gently guided me through each contraction, held my hands, rubbed my jaw, kissed me and held eye contact to keep me focussed. I needed his contact, and connection with me, his immense inner strength and his comforting love and support, he gave it as he has so many times in our lives together. I felt loved, safe and most of all unafraid in this beautiful room filled with light, love and laughter.
When it became more challenging for me to work with each contraction, I climbed into the warm welcoming water of the birthing bath. The contractions were steady and pain that had not registered before made itself known as my daughter moved further and further along the birth canal. For a moment I panicked, I had lost myself in the movement and music, in swaying and breathing and the physical exertion caught up with me. I felt tired for the first time and did not know how much longer I could go on. The contractions were like stormy waves and they continued to peak and break before swelling up again. Heather checked again and to my surprise and relief, she announced that I was 10cm dilated and that I was ready to begin pushing. I was amazed and happy that we were so far along.
Memories of coffee plungers and panting puppies came back to me, as I got ready to bear down. This was it, what we were all here for. It took a certain amount of strength to bear down and push. I realised that true commitment was required at this point of the journey to bring my daughter to me; I had to push through the pain to bring her down and ever closer to the outside light. I marvelled at the synchronicity of my own journey, how I have courageously pushed through mental and emotional pain to reach the light.
Pieter climbed into the bath with me and held me and supported me from behind. His strength flowed through me as he held me and for a moment I felt as if we were in the palms of God’s hands – safe, warm and surrounded by love and life. I could see and feel my daughter’s head as she moved down with each contraction. I longed to hold her and for the labour to be over. With the next push, her head crowned and we could all see her wispy black hair. I held her there and awaited the next contraction. It came, I gently panted and pushed, closed my eyes and felt the release of her body as she slid free of mine into the warm water.
I opened my eyes to find my beautiful baby girl, Keana in my arms. I gazed upon her filled with immense joy at finally being able to hold her so precious and prefect. I kissed her and held her and quietly whispered my thanks to her for being born into our family and for being here. I felt like her and I had been through so much already and that she had at times held me and carried me through some of the darkest moments of my life while I carried her and treasured and reassured her. I have been in love with her from the beginning and this love exploded within me as I reverently held this baby close to my heart. I silently prayed that our relationship would always reflect this closeness and this love and that she would always know that I am here for her, and will forever love her as completely as I do on this day.
I felt overwhelmed by the beauty and perfection of this birth. I did not specifically recall immense pain (with the exception of the last 10 minutes or so), I felt strong and in awe of what I had just accomplished. This birth has shown me so much about myself, so much about my mental and emotional capacity and how powerful and strong I am. Keana was born at 16h50 almost 12 hours after my waters had broken. In those twelve hours I let go of immense fear as I journeyed through pain and embraced the strength, power and love that I am. It was a journey of healing like no other I have experienced and I feel full and confident as I continue to stride through this blessed and beautiful life.
My deep thanks and gratitude to my magnificent husband Pieter, his love and compassion inspire me and uplift me. To my first loved son Kael, for his innocence and love. Thank you to my friends Julie, Angela and Garrick – you were each there when I needed you to be, in the way that I needed you. Your love and support is astounding. To Heather and Margo, thank you for creating such a beautiful space for moms to birth their babies and in many ways to birth themselves. It is a profound and blessed journey and I am honoured to have shared it with all of you.
My first camera was a blue plastic box. I was nine years old at the time. Now at the age of 44 and 10 days I look back and see small pieces of my soul in every picture that has magically appeared from box to EOS.
Thank you to my daughter who came up with the name for this site – Adele, jy is my hart se punt…..
I will try to update this site on a daily basis. Please feel free to comment, contact, browse….. but please respect the copyright and if you need some of the pictures, contact me at talana@moments.co.za
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