It's a...baby?

In all the talk about what the Royal baby might be named, someone jokingly suggested that it might be called 'Godot'.

This would be after the play titled 'Waiting For Godot' by Samuel Beckett which, as I recall, was an exceedingly tedious play in which (not surprisingly) there was a lot of waiting around.

However, in this instance, it was not 'Waity Katy' who was waiting around, it was the rest of the world. The Duchess of Cambridge was in and out of hospital in just over twenty-four hours, which might suggest that she did not have any unnecessary medical interference with the process.

Prince William's mother Diana was in and out of hospital even quicker. I have just looked at the old footage of Princess Diana and Prince Charles on the steps of the hospital, prefaced by the news reporter's comment that 'No sooner was she in the hospital than she was out again'.

My recollection agrees with this because one Saturday morning, nearly 29 years ago, when I was heavily pregnant with 'my little prince', a friend rang me to say that Princess Diana had just gone into hospital for the birth of her second child. A few hours later Diana was safely delivered of Prince Harry. I went into hospital later that day (with a false start - like the one Kate is reported to have experienced). However, instead of sending us home again, the hospital kept me in and put me on a drip to induce the birth - which led to a forceps delivery. I went into hospital Saturday afternoon and my ordeal ended on Sunday around lunchtime. When the nurse in the labour ward placed my newly born son onto my chest, I suddenly realized that I had forgotten what I was doing there. It was all so terrifyingly awful. Hence the title of this post.

I came out of hospital about ten days later with severe post-natal depression (although I didn't realize it at the time). This had wide-reaching effects for me, my son and my husband.   Suffice to say that we didn't have a second child and even now, I find it hard to think back to this time without getting upset.

Maybe if I'd had a birthing 'coach' like Kate was reported to have had, things might have been different. (The annoying thing is that, at the time, my husband had a private health care package which would probably have picked up the bill for such a consultation.)

Or if I (and everyone else) had listened to my mother who said, in her simple, homespun wisdom: 'The apple will fall when it is ripe'.

I am pleased to see that the Royal baby appears to have had a gentle entry into the world. He came in his own good time. Which is good for him, good for his mother and good for his father (and ultimately, may be so for the nation).

However, a good birth should be everyone's birthright.

LABOUR OF LOVE...

This morning I awoke to another brilliantly sunny day and when I looked out of the window, my ageing yellow VW Beetle was covered with a layer of polleny stuff.

So I brushed it down with a soft brush and then I did something I've never done before...I got a bucket of water and a sponge and started to clean my old 'Love Bug' in the sunshine.

Previously, I've always taken my car to a car wash. Or let those blokey blokes in the supermarket carpark take car of it. After all, being blokes, they know better than me how to clean a car. I thought.

But then some friends told us that they clean their cars at least once a week with a simple bucket of water and a sponge.

Admitedly one of these friends runs a rather posh chauffeur service so his car has to look nice and clean all the time. Whereas sometimes, I let my car go for weeks without so much as a 'lick and a promise'.

It was really a labour of love because I didn't have to do that job today.

Unlike the Duchess of Cambridge.

After all this 'waiting', her time has now come. Apparently, her labour of love is just beginning.

To all those who labour today (including my beloved son, who is studying hard for exams), good luck
and God bless!

A pregnant pause....

Every time a helicopter goes overhead at the moment, I wonder if that's the one that will be whisking William to Kate's side for the birth. (Or indeed Kate to the labour ward).

I was sitting in a spa waiting room yesterday, alongside a heavily pregnant young woman, when a helicopter whizzed overhead. I jokingly asked her if it was coming to take her to the hospital for a special delivery.

The young woman told me that she was expecting twins - a boy and a girl - and I thought 'How textbook perfect is that?'

Even 'Princess Kate', with all her celebrity looks, lifestyle and money couldn't be lucky enough to order that.

Or could she?