A Royal baby

I don’t know why, but the British public love a birth story. With the popularity of programmes like One Born Every Minute it’s no surprise that some people seem to be hugely invested in the birth of Kate Middleton and Prince William’s 3rd baby. But is it just me who can’t quite understand the need to camp outside the hospital where the poor woman is trying to give birth? Can’t we just leave her be? I don’t care how much you practise your hypnobirthing techniques, no affirmation, visualisation or breathing technique would have distracted me from the fact that the world’s press, and a pensioner in a Union Jack emblazoned suit, were waiting outside the building for me to push out a baby. That’s not increasing anyone’s oxytocin levels, is it?

My eldest is a year younger than Prince George, so when Kate emerged from the Lindo Wing the first time with perfect hair, glowing skin and a huge grin on her face I didn’t think much of it. “Oh, she’s had a baby. Lovely.” When it came to her second child, Princess Charlotte, I’d given birth once myself and my thought process was a little different. Why on earth were the press focussing on how quickly and easily William got the car seat into the car? I was far more impressed with Kate just hopping into the car. When it came to me leaving the hospital after the birth of my baby it took me about 10 minutes to decide how I was going to get into the car and a further 15 minutes to actually execute it. And who made the decision to put Kate in a dress that was pale lemon at the top, and faded down to white? No one wants to wear white on their lower half whist they are also relying on a maternity pad (or 2) the size of a king size mattress!    

Yes, I know the news that a baby has been born is lovely. Yes, I’ll be interested to hear if she’s had a girl or boy, and what name they’ve given their child. But I can definitely wait to hear the news. Hanging around outside St Mary’s for over a fortnight isn’t benefitting anyone, especially not Kate Middleton.