It’s a BOY! — If you didn’t know that Kate and Will just welcomed a baby, well, then I am jealous of the rock you are hiding under.
With round the clock coverage of “the door” to the hospital where the Duchess hadn’t even yet entered and odds makers taking bets on the future king’s name (hint: it won’t be Caden), I was a little underwhelmed when the actual event occurred. Though there is a small chance Meret may one day marry this future prince (like I said, small), this newest royal will likely have little impact on my day-to-day life. But, a healthy baby born into the world is always something to celebrate!
Glimpsing all this coverage it became clear very quickly that Duchess Catherine’s birthing experience was far different than my first go around. How? Let me tell you.
Kate: Driven by her husband to a private wing of a hospital where she was likely greeted with whatever she wanted/needed.
Me: Driven by my husband to an PACKED maternity ward where I was turned away and told I wasn’t in “real” labor — only to come back a couple of hours later 5cm and ready to go (grrrr).
Kate: Offered whatever delivery method she desired (she chose natural — good. for. her./not. for. me.)
Me: I begged for an epidural. It wore off. They never refilled it — until AFTER Augie arrived (true story).
Kate: Did I mention the private wing of the hospital? Well she likely had a private suite in the private wing — and could put restrictions on who did and did not visit her.
Me: OBGYN, pediatrician, nurse for me, nurse for baby, audiologist, candy striper selling newspaper, baby picture photographer, maintenance, janitorial staff, lactation consultant, minister, — then eight family members. “Private” it was not.
Kate: Left the hospital 24 hours after giving birth wearing a designer dress and HEELS. Her hair was done by a professional, as was her makeup.
Me: Left the hospital in the dress in which I showed up, wearing flip flops and wearing organically sprouted dark circles under my eyes (oh… and with cankles grown from the insane amount of fluids they pumped into me).
BUT then I think of all the additional ways our experiences were different, and I am forever grateful that I am not “Princess Kate”.
Kate: Hovered over every minute of her pregnancy and unable to hide from cameras, even in her worst feeling pregnancy moments.
Me: Nobody cared/knew I was pregnant until 12 weeks and then only my family even bothered to pay much attention until the baby arrived.
Kate: Left a hospital to thousands of people cheering for her, scrutinizing what she was wearing, how she looked and demanding to know everything about her most private of moments.
Me: Left the hospital with my husband and baby — waited alone for our car and boarded our precious boy for the first time as a family of three.
Kate: Awaiting approval of her baby’s name by her grandmother-in-law
Me: Chose the name that made us happy, shared it the moment he was born and didn’t care what anyone else thought.
Kate: Will loose her baby weight in the public eye and will likely be expected to be public-ready again in short order.
Me: Wore layers for months and some days didn’t change out of pajamas, because I just couldn’t always bring my self to pull-it-together.
The truth is that for as much as it would be an adventure to be a princess — I am glad I am not a princess mom. A regular, normal mom is great for me.