Dear royal highness, dear Amalia,

I think that of all the Dutch people looking forward to your birth, I was just a little more involved than all the others. And my beloved as well. Here's how it is. I had the idea to create a TV program for your mother. She had not been in the Netherlands for long and did not have a host of friends who were generous with childbirth tips. Moreover, being a famous person, giving birth is just a bit different than for someone less known, so it seemed fun to make a program where various well-known people talked about their pregnancy, the birth, the curious eyes of journalists, the rest of the nation, and more of that. The most fun people were lined up to participate. Beau van Erven Dorens (“a mother who breastfeeds twins, one on the left and the other on the right, that's the most beautiful thing there is’), Leontine Borsato, Irene Moors (’Whenever someone asks me how my birth was, I have to recover every time and feel like those four trucks are driving over me again‘) and a few more stars. The interviews were recorded and I was sitting contentedly behind my desk. Until suddenly the news appeared that you would be born a bit earlier than we had expected. That I had been so foolish to consider the date communicated to us as the real date. Royal houses and big stars often tell a different date to shake off the curious crowd a bit. So soon you were born and my program was not finished yet, and then your mother would have nothing to gain from it. That was not going to happen to me. So my beloved (also the director of that program) pulled me by my sleeve right into the editing room. We spent a whole night editing and worked straight through to the recording session that took place the next day at 11:00 AM. I have never been awake for so long in my life, but the adrenaline kept me going. RTL4 broadcast the program and eventually we were in London, it was a Sunday, I remember it like it was yesterday, when we heard the news: Catharina-Amalia Beatrix Carmen Victoria van Oranje was born.

Although we had nothing to do with it, you, there in wintry London, still felt a bit of us.

I wish you all the best, and, enjoy the golden years for a while longer, because no one has ever gotten worse from a bit of dancing and partying. Just look at your fantastic mother.

Image credits RVD – Frank Ruiter