The title of this post makes me sound like the Grinch that stole the royal baby, so in advance of the preconceptions, I just want to make it clear that I am not trolling the news of the birth of a new princess.
Nor am I going to whinge on that it hasn’t or won’t be hard for Kate and Wills adjusting to their newborn just because they have squillions of pounds in the bank and belong to the richest family in the world. I actually think it’s lovely news, don’t doubt that she is a hands-on Mummy and think they both look great. Well done, Kate and ‘Princess Baby Squidgeface’, or whatever she will be called – to be announced.
No, the title of this post relates entirely to not wanting to be reminded about the gory details of the birth of Lady P and/or having to think about how gross the whole process actually is.
If you’ve read my post about having my baby, you’ll know that my labour was really straightforward and in comparison to what some women are put through, relatively ‘quick’.
But that still doesn’t mean I enjoyed any second of it (except when she arrived obvs)…
It hurt. It was messy. I had no control over how it was going to pan out, and hospitals are not nice places to ‘hang out’ (excuse the pun).
The whole process is down to luck and whilst I was absolutely besotted with my daughter from the second I found out I was pregnant, and incredibly lucky that she arrived safely, listening to ANY birth stories just plain grosses me out.
The point of this blog is that Catherine might be the future Queen of England, but she is still a human being, and what her body went through yesterday – albeit probably without the grumpy midwives of Barnet General – will be pretty much what any other Mummy experiences in order to produce their darling offspring.
And that just makes me want to cross my legs. And cry. A lot.
For me, being pregnant and giving birth is a means to an end in order to get a new baby, and although I would like to do it again to give Lady P a sibling to play Mario Cart with, I certainly don’t buy into the whole ‘magical experience’ that I’ve heard other (perhaps more “Mummsy”) Mummies talk about.
The worry, anxiety and PAIN of pregnancy and birth are so fragile and deeply intimate experiences that apparently you forget in time, so whilst I wish the Cambridges all the best with their new bubala, I’m going to make it my mission to ignore them as much as possible.