After the oppressive heat, no-one can have been more relieved at the Duchess of Cambridge’s arrival at hospital than all the photographers camped outside.

With Kate ensconced in the labour ward, they could take a toilet break for the first time in two weeks. All the photographers, that is, except the one caught crawling along a hospital floor in a desperate bid to get a fish-eyed shot of the Royal issue. OK, that didn’t happen But with the mania. surrounding this occasion, it wouldn’t have surprised me, even if Boris Johnson had popped up behind the cameraman with a flash-lamp, hollering “Push for London!”

Once the photographers collectively returned from the bathroom, they were in time to capture baby Prince George emerging (again) into the world on the hospital steps: cue comparisons to Diana holding Baby William on those same steps, and recollections of Prince Charles’ words of this “small creature who belonged to us but seemed to belong to everyone else as well”. Under these conditions, the Duchess had to deliver our future monarch. What a magnificent onslaught for her to look forward to as she fought through another set of contractions.

Was William beside her? Of course he was. He accompanied her to the hospital and we’re told the couple had a few hours alone baby bonding before informing their respective families. A father’s presence in the birthing room is taken for granted nowadays – 93 per cent of fathers will attend the birth. Many female friends have told me that without their partner wiping their brow, holding their hand and generally giving useless (but well-meaning) advice, they couldn’t have gotten through it. Obviously, this is an overstatement; the baby’s got to come out, whether the mum can or can’t ‘get through it’.

There is evidence that being present at the baby’s first precious gasps of (£5,000 per night in Kate’s case) air can decrease labour time and distress for the mother, and also enhance the bond between father and child. I’d also wager it strengthens the bond between mother and father – never a bad start for a young family’s life.

A friend of mine said that although initially she was concerned her husband may not find her attractive after seeing her in such a primitive state, she decided at the last minute he should definitely share the moment.

Although some studies indicate a change in sexual attraction following such an ordeal, I imagine this is pretty hard to directly correlate. Dirty nappies, and chapped nipples may well put a slight dampener on proceedings for a while anyway.

However, one male friend had this to say: “Seeing her in so much pain was agonizing – I’ve never felt so helpless, or so responsible. However, having seen what she can endure, I now have more respect than ever for her – and when our daughter popped out it was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen – goo and all.”

In due course, William’s presence at the birth will reap its rewards. In every way, and from our armchair perspectives, the Duke and Duchess seem like a close couple, and so it’s not even a push to imagine William standing by in scrubs, wielding umbilical scissors.

Besides, it would certainly seem appropriate for him to be in the room – if only to elbow that dastardly photographer (and Boris) out of the way.

 

In praise of the matriarchs

Recently, my family suffered the death of a matriarchal figure – my step-grandmother.

A woman the same age as our Queen, who commanded similar respect. She was all you’d expect a stalwart grandma to be.

She was never angry, but forthright. She never complained about her own woes, but certainly had things to say about other people’s.

She was not my biological anything, but from the moment I entered her life, she treated me no differently than her other grandchildren.

The new Baby Prince is not wanting for strong female role models either, and these events got me thinking. What does a ‘good’ female role model consist of these days? And do girls and boys require them equally?

A lot of my friends have children (and dogs), and I’m quickly becoming godmother to lots of these children (and dogs). Some may be sympathy votes, bestowed because the parents believe I’ll never quite ‘get there’ myself. But for whatever reason, I’ve enlisted armies of godchildren and need to decide what to teach my loyal subjects.

Firstly, and seemingly superficially, I’d like to show the girls that being a healthy size is more important than being virtually no size (at least that’s how I justify taking another slice of cake).

I must emphasise to them that how we feel as women determines both our behaviour, and the world’s perception of us. A positive sense of who we are and how we look – even when we know our legs could be longer or our lips poutier – lets the world see we have our own beauty and a worth far beyond any physicality.

This sense of confidence is far sexier than long legs. Thought I admit the legs would be welcome.

I also want boys to recognise early that the coolest girls are those with self worth and their own style – if only to curtail supply and demand for vacant, unrealistically beautiful women everywhere.

Short of using shock therapy on young men (we can resort to this later if all else fails) the best way to achieve this is to make no apologies for being smart, confident women who don’t need to conform to expectations.

If boys observe this in the women around them early on, hopefully it will stay with them. Being a role model to a young person isn’t about reading them high brow literature or dispensing golden nuggets of wisdom. The Queen won’t be sitting down with the new prince playing Risk to impart wisdom on managing territories.

I shouldn’t worry though. From the way he’s trending on Twitter, he’ll have more than enough unwanted advice.

We can be sure that Carole Middleton – who seems like a strong female figure in her own right – may have sage advice; after all, she counselled her daughter to the right-hand of the throne. Well, not the throne yet. And hopefully not anytime soon either – I’m not quite ready for the death of another matriarch, Ma’am.