By the time the Duchess left the King Edward VII Hospital, back to her professional, smiling self, there can't have been a media outlet across the world that hadn't carried the news that she was expecting. Of course as we all now know, sad to say, the story did not end there. Hilarity at a prank call to the hospital by two Australian DJs, turned to horror as news broke towards the end of the week that the nurse who had taken the call had allegedly committed suicide.
Treat suicide sensitively. Give the topic some respect. We don't know why it happened, we won't know why it happened. Suicide is an incredibly personal, horrible, complicated thing. Give her personal family some space.
Kate was already the perfect princess. In becoming pregnant, she has completed the picture.
Whilst I'm jubilant along with the rest of the world that Kate and William are expecting their precious bundle of joy, I'd really like to read somethi...
Let's coin a new term for the Royal Twins. Let's call them... The Pwins (Trademark pending). What if these twins happened to be a healthy little boy - and a healthy little girl... And now - the last and most wondrous step of all: What if the babies were delivered by Caesarean Section?
Monarchies codify the superiority of a man to a woman. A king always outranks a queen - a man always outranks a woman. The highest position in a royal house may never be occupied by a woman because the highest position is that of king, which is reserved for a man.
So ladies, if I can speak frankly, discovering you're pregnant by constantly throwing up your guts seems so unreasonable. It's an utter shock to both mind and body. Now I know that morning sickness is considered a common side effect to the early stages of pregnancy, but for some women it can be so much more debilitating than that. For a desperately unlucky few, it's potentially life threatening for the baby. My pregnancy experience was somewhere in the middle of the multi-coloured sickness spectrum.
As we enter seven or eight months of closely monitoring the Duchess of Cambridge's progress with her pregnancy, we should remember one vital thing: This pregnancy is happening to a father too.
The celebrity media's role in bringing a previously obscure maternal condition to the forefront of popular culture - just imagine the pub quiz questions to be mined from hyperemesis gravidarum's Wikipedia entry this week - carries important implications for health communication.
Miserable though it may be to experience as a condition, in fact 'morning sickness' (if it's not of the rarer more severe kind), oddly enough, can be good news for a pregnancy. It's associated with lowered risk for miscarriage, pre-term birth, low birth weight, and perinatal death.
Does it matter - in the slightest - if our future King is not a dish? Does it matter if Prince William is not up there with the rest of the Euro-hunks like Prince Felipe of Spain or Prince Haakon of Norway?
Fertility rights are hugely important. But what's happening in (nee) Middleton's middle shouldn't be up for public discussion. It's fantastic that another royal is on the way but it would be even better if the press could stop the speculation on how it's gestating for the next half year.
If we follow the precedent of other recent Royal babies, such as Viscount Severn and Lady Louise (the Prince & Countess of Wessex's two children), William and Catherine's child will be given a title a day or so after the birth. Buckingham Palace will now be thinking of options for the child, but it will remain a secret until after the birth.
IF they succeed MPs will get the press they want - supine, acquiescent, unquestioning and dull like in state regulated France - rather than the impertinent, rude, awkward, partisan, iconoclastic press they absolutely deserve.
I love Britain because the single best thing to come after a night at the pub with pints filled to the top is a full English. I'm not scientist, so I don't understand exactly what the curing factor is. But I've tried croissants, chow mein, burritos... nothing else comes close. You've absolutely nailed it.
I am very anti-tweed; it's reminiscent of insular closed world where the clock has stopped. But the aristocrat, Arthur de Soutrait has opened it up and splashed it with punk brightness, a combination which makes tweed more appealing.