I turned on the radio this week to the "news" that The Duchess of Cambridge was in labour. "Fine," I thought, and switched over from BBC Radio Bristol (ah the BBC, unfailingly monarchistic to the end) to The Breeze, where I'd rather hear adverts for carpet than be supplied with a blow-by-blow account of a woman's labour.
I hoped that I might avoid any further royal family updates over the course of the afternoon, but Kate dutifully gave birth the same day and was displayed on the steps of the Lindo Wing of the private hospital St Mary's - where many princesses before her have pulled their labour-scathed bodies into some kind of shape resembling a person, and held their baby aloft in some kind of Lion-King-esque submission to the world's paparazzi.
Okay, I jest.
But I actually don't think this is funny.
In fact, I feel sorry for Kate.
I don't know that any woman should have to pull together an appearance fit for the press mere hours after giving birth to another person. To me, that seems pretty barbaric. That a person who is no-doubt still struggling to sit down without pain, much less tolerate a stylist, hairdresser and make-up artist when I imagine all they want to do is rest and occasionally marvel at the human that wasn't there a few hours before.
I feel sorry for her, and I feel sorry for the new mums (and not-so-new-mums) who have to see this and feel compared. To feel the scrutiny of others at such a vulnerable and exhausting time, where hormones play a huge part in feelings of achievement, failure, love, hope and sadness seems completely unfair.
I work with so many mothers who have experienced traumatic births or suffered from post-natal depression. For some, this can come on some time after the birth and bring with it other issues to address, such as anxiety or dealing with panic-attacks while also managing the day-to-day needs of being responsible for a new person. All this on top of the potential for fear of judgement and need for approval from others.
So who are we to look upon Kate and judge her? What does it say about us as a society that we want to see a mother mere hours after birth looking as preened and glamorous as if they were going to some formal event? Most of us don't aim for that level of formal presentation at a wedding, let alone the day that we've given birth to our third child.
So I'm not going to be poring over the pictures of the #royalbaby - instead I'm going to be taking a few moments to say well done to the mothers I know - who are quietly overcoming their own battles and issues - none of which can be resolved with a finish of hairspray of slick of mascara.
If you're experiencing depression either before or after the birth of a child and would like to talk further, please do email me at firstname.lastname@example.org or contact me via my web-form here.
Laura is an online talking therapist and writer specialising in working with millennials and the LGBTQI+ community.