For one, the treasure of the British culture shined brightly. To commemorate the birth of the child, the Royal Mint produced 10,000pieces of silver crown 5pounds coins. The royal family made 2013 golden coins and sent each one to every child that was born in the UK on that very day (about 2000 children are born in the UK every day - they have the figure). They also chose to announce the birth on. . . .Not Facebook or twitter, but by a herald-er, beating gong and announcing that the heir to the throne had been born - come to think of it, the royal family must have been watching plenty Nigerian home videos. They placed a bulletin on a golden easel (a tripod stand) outside of Buckingham palace so everyone could see. There were gun salutes at 4 locations - London, Bermuda, Canada and New Zealand, with the bells at Westminster Abbey and several other churches in England rung. To cap it all up, special monuments in the 16 commonwealth realms over which the Queen reigns and over which the new born may reign in probably 50 or 60 years’ time.
The entire "ceremony" that followed the birth of the baby was quite dizzying, though I tried to keep up. But who would not celebrate like that. The boy is third in line and will, God willing, someday be king over England, Scotland, Wales, Ireland and over 16 realms including Canada and the Australia. Also the boy may also become the head of the Church of England (The Anglican Church), the role assigned to the British throne, thanks to King James of KJV. So the responsibilities that he will undertake, by reason of his birth, is enormous indeed. You can trust the ever dogged media; they kept their vigil, days un-end, at the entrance of St. Mary's Hospital where the baby was born. When news had it that reporters were gathering at the hospital, I thought the Princess had gone into labour, only to find out that they calculated her Expected Date of Delivery (EDD) and came to perch at the entrance of the hospital to catch the first pictures. So they waited almost one entire week, just watching and waiting.
But like you may have thought, I had a few eureka moments of my own when Kate came out in her blue gown with a still bulging stomach, I did not just see a Princess, I saw a woman, every woman, my own wife, my sisters, my sisters-in-law, my friends. I could imagine what the couple had been through in the moments leading to the delivery and they still had to come out to wave to the waiting public and share their goodwill. Truly delivery is no respecter of persons. Even though she smiled, you knew she had been through something major.
Giving birth is no easy feat for any woman, especially a primer, notwithstanding that you got the best care and the highest possible dose of pain killers in epidural, I can tell you. I have been present at 5 deliveries, 3 of which were my own children and the other my wife's niece and nephew. With one of the most professional cares, all the best family support available, they were still very challenging moments- from start to finish. Though the whole world marked the birth of the baby with pomps and pageantry, gold coins and lightening that must have costed quite some, but no matter the money spent, it can never come close to true cost of having this baby, your baby, any baby. What is the true cost of a baby? Is it the value of cash, gold and silver expended or the cost of firearms used up to announce the birth? I wish the cost of a baby was just the cost of the gold spent, but it is not.
The real cost of a baby is the value of finding out for the first time that you were pregnant - the exhilaration when that litmus paper changed colour or when that thin meter brought out 2 bars and the doctor confirmed that you would soon be a mother. The real cost of a baby is the value you paid when the morning sickness started, and you threw up all morning and sometimes all evening and while you were besides yourself throwing up, everyone else pleasurably worried because they knew things were progressing as planned. It is the value of not being able to stick any smell for days, the value of the craving to eat everything from chocolates to chalk. It is the value of spitting everywhere, falling asleep because your hormones were on the edge and then waking up to realize you have not been able to cook dinner for your family because you have been healthily unwell.
The cost of a baby is the value you paid for walking with a swollen feet for days, someone constantly measuring your stomach's extension to see how long it has grown, you peeing into a small test tubes every other week so they can run your protein and sugar test, the value of the scan, when you sighted that little pretty thing in your stomach and saw that heart beat all for the first time, it is the value you paid when the smiling doctor told you that the pounding sound you were hearing from the sonometer was your baby's heartbeat.
It is the value of buying baby clothes from every store you could afford, painting and decorating the baby nursery, the cost of finally being told that you baby had grown to a healthy 3.8kg at 36weeks, could be a bouncing 4.25kg at birth and that you may have trial labour and/or a C- Section. It is the value of walking into that labour room and in excitement and pain waiting to hear the word "Push" or "sign here", either of them meaning the baby is finally on its way out. Somehow, the un-initiated thinks that finally the value is fully paid when that bouncing baby is delivered and while he is crying, the whole world is rejoicing. But to the initiated, the cost takes a new form, ask Prince Williams. Oh! You have not liked his page on social media, so you may ask me. The sleepless night starts, so is checking at the baby in the cot at 3am just to be sure he is still breathing - yours truly have done that a couple of times. It becomes the cost of having to breastfeed every other hour at night, sleeping at odd times during the day and still doing all the house chores. It is the cost of having been through so much, mummy still having to smile and say "I love you" to the baby and then to the daddy that put her in condition!
I remember that famous song by Niko Mbanga " Sweet Mother, I no go forget you", and want to give a shout out to all the mothers, starting from my wife who recently had a pretty little princess, to my sisters (in laws), to the Princess Kate, to all the mothers of the world and the daddies that held their own, what would the world be like without you. Thank you for paying the price for the baby!