The Great Kate Wait

So, apparently the Duchess of Cambridge is in labour. The coverage on Sky is hilarious as they scramble around trying to get a comment from just about anyone who has ever been a midwife/given birth/been born and as I write someone just said the word 'vaginal' on the BBC. Dear God, what is this world coming to? Anyway, good luck to Kate as to any woman giving birth today. Just have any drugs they offer you love and PUUUUUSH!

The Royal Baby

So, apparently the world's media is parked outside the Lindo Wing (or Lindor wing as I thought it was) where Kate is due to give birth and the whole country is eager with anticipation at the impending arrival of a new royal. Whilst not exactly gripped with fever-pitched excitement myself, I suppose the birth of any baby should be a cause for celebration and joy, unless the offspring in question is the result of some un-holy coupling such as Kim Kardashian and Kanye West. All this hype however, did get me thinking back to the birth of my own child and wondering how Kate's experience would differ from mine. Here's what I came up with. If anyone from the Royal Household is reading then I am happy to accept correction of any of the following points.

• Kate didn't see at least fifteen different midwives/doctors/health visitors during her pregnancy/delivery/post natal care. By the way, can anyone tell me if you have to be called 'Pam' to be a health visitor? It's just that all the ones I know have been.

• I bet her delivery midwife was not called 'Sarah Goodenough'. Not a name to inspire confidence. Sorry Sarah love but you weren't (good enough). You looked about 14 and nearly let me die. Be grateful I didn't sue you. I still could. (I'm not bitter. I'm totally over this, honest)

• I don't suppose William will take a snap of his wife post-partum with her legs in stirrups (yes girls, stirrups) and post it on facebook. (OK the fb bit probably isn't strictly accurate but it did get taken out of the 'Our Baby' album pretty darn quickly)

• The midwife will not be heard to exclaim 'How bloody big did you think this baby was going to be?' as she dresses him in age 0-3 month clothes with at lest 4 inches dangling off his arms and legs. Ok, I didn't know you were meant to get 'newborn' did I? He grew into them didn't he?

• Neither do I suppose that William will go to Boots in search of 'disposable knickers' and get removed by security. This happened to the husband of a friend of mine. We can only think that the assistant thought he meant 'edible knickers' and took offence.

• The lovely Kate will not slob around for at least 4 months in a dressing gown, watching Homes under the Hammer, crying, smelling of baby sick and shouting at her husband.

...but apart from that, we're just the same really.

What's in a name?

Apparently the most likely names for the new Royal Baby are Alexandra for a girl, or George if it's a boy. The only reason I would be remotely interested in William and Kate's choice of name for their first-born would be if I had placed a hefty bet on it. I haven't, so I'm not.
Nevertheless, names do mean so much, don't they? I'm not sure how this works in other cultures and I would be most interested to hear from any overseas readers on this topic, but here in good old Blighty, you can definitely tell a thing or two about a chap (or chapess) from the name they have.
When we were choosing names for our first (and last) born my choice was definitely limited due to having been a teacher for so long. Every name seemed to have some sort of memory associated with it and more often than not it was a negative one. One of Geof's suggestions was 'Kyle'. Now I am really sorry but every Kyle I have taught has been trouble with a capital K. It's a name I associate with small children being yelled at in supermarkets (Lidl, not Waitrose of course). My dear husband also suggested 'Jamal', a gorgeous name I am sure, but possibly one which would result in him being stopped and interrogated at airports on a regular basis. Why not go the whole hog and christen him 'Death to the Infidel' just to be sure.
However, we both liked 'Bryn', each having separate but happy memories of holidays spent in Wales. Phew! Sorted and at only 20 weeks pregnant. Ah, but what about a middle name? I really wanted it to be 'Morgan' my mother's maiden name. At least that way I would always be able to answer the security question to reset my password. However, Geof thought that 'Bryn Morgan Harrison' sounded like an accountancy firm.  He had a point I suppose so we went for a bit of biblical with 'Reuben'.
You can have a lot of fun with names too. I'm sure you've all worked out you film star name using your middle name plus a park near to where you grew up. Mine would be 'Kathryn The Rec'. Mmmm maybe not. A recent one doing the rounds was your rock band name. For this you used the colour of your underwear plus the last food you ate. Following on from my 'Inner Baptist' post you won't believe this but mine was 'Black Quiche'!
I work in a Catholic school, and when the new pope was being elected we had a great time deciding what our 'Pope Name' would be. I know, we don't get out much. To do this we looked at the saints' names calendar, looked for our birthdays and selected a name. I went for 'Pope Casimir Humbert'.
So, names do mean quite a bit. That's why we are unlikely to ever see a 'Queen Chardonnay' in our green and pleasant land.