Royal baby babble

Today I discovered a royal connection I never knew I had.

Until now the extent of my involvement with The Firm was getting the sought-after role of Princess Diana in my north London pre-school wedding pageant,  aged four and a half.

But I can now double my regal credentials because I’ve also been a patient in the currently beseiged Lindo Wing at St Marys. 

You may have missed my brief sojourn in 2010 – as far as I’m aware the world’s media was not on the doorstep and Buckingham Palace didn’t bother putting up an easel on that occasion (You would have thought they could at least have rigged up a flatscreen).

The wing is suitably palatial, as I remember it (although I was off my face on anaesthetic and pain killers at the time) – all oak panelled walls and lifts like the ones they have in Harrods. The rooms are HUGE – which is probably a good thing because it sounds like poor old Kate has a cast of thousands in there with her. Including the Queen’s gynaecologist, which is a bit weird, I think (also, and I mean this in the nicest possible way, she must be getting on a bit now surely?)

Frankly I’m pretty glad I was there for surgery rather than childbirth. I had many issues with my particular maternity unit but at least it wasn’t like Piccadilly Circus during rush hour.

The Duchess of Cambridge isn’t even fully dilated yet and already the entire planet has a million questions about her.

Was she induced? How long will it take? Will she have pain relief? (A friend surprised me today by being horrified by the very idea of it, whereas I am more of the if-it-hurts-then-why-not school of thought) how about caesarean?

I imagine Kate, if she’s thinking anything at all at this moment, is probably only thinking “ouch”. And swearing rather a lot (welcome to the club darling).

I’m already preparing myself to get extremely angry over all the column inches that will doubtless be given over to whether or not she breastfeeds. I hope she at least has a say in that.