There is something about a perfectly orchestrated 'birth plan' that brings out the cynic in me. And Oscar-winning actress Nicole Kidman's imminent labour sounds planned, literally, right down to the last note. It's going to be quite a performance: a natural birth to a soundtrack of pre-selected music including the soothing strains of our own Man with the Golden Flute, Sir James Galway. On tape, one assumes, rather than in person. Mind you, the birth is planned for Nashville, Tennessee. Cue the Grand Ole Opry.

Mothers — never mind midwives — all over the country will be rolling their eyes in unison. Lights, camera, action. "I'm ready for my close-up now, Doctor". It doesn't bear thinking about.

Don't get me wrong. I'm all for a natural birth. I've been centrestage for four of them, drugs-free and midwife-led. And, without question, they were four of the best experiences of my life.

I'm even all for a bit of preparation and planning. I just draw the line at a shooting schedule, complete with Director, Best Boy and Gaffer.

You know what the poet says about the best laid plans ... they often go astray. And where that everyday miracle, childbirth, is concerned the words 'natural' and 'planned' are contradictions in terms. What comes naturally can't be meticulously planned and what is planned to within a inch of its life, can't be natural.

Paradoxically, in order to stay in control, Nicole will have to go with the flow and roll with the punches. The meticulously thought-through 'birth plan' might well go out the window, along with tape deck, CDs and the entire Dolby surround-sound system.

Real childbirth, you see, isn't like the movies. For anyone yet to experience birth as nature intended, for the mum it's a bit like running the Belfast marathon without any training. And, then, when you struggle exhausted to the finishing line, being ordered to turn around and run the 26 miles back again. Believe me, by the time Nicole is in the throes of deep labour, if the entire ensemble of the Royal Scots Dragoon Guards were to march around the room to the skirl of 40 bagpipes, she wouldn't even notice.

Fortunately, Sir James will be there only digitally-speaking. Otherwise, the labouring mum might feel moved at some point to tell him exactly what he could do with his flute.

But enough with the cynicism, already! Belfast's own James Galway is one of the finest flautists of his generation and has recorded more than 60 albums. Nicole will have enjoyed his music during her pregnancy and, since we now know the unborn child has hearing, her baby will probably be attuned to the tracks, too. The tunes will soothe like a comfort blanket, at least much of the time.

If the baby is a girl, she might be named Annie, after Galway's hit cover of the John Denver 70s classic Annie's Song. But now even I'm getting carried away.

In the long hours of childbirth, there's no harm in a touch of ambience. When my youngest was born, we'd tuned the hospital radio to some late-night, soft-volume, easy-listening jazz and, I have to say that, while I was capable of appreciating it, it was rather nice. Peace, quiet, dimmed lighting, rather than neon glare, and the minimum of hustle and bustle is good, too.

But if something goes even slightly wrong — and it so easily can — then the fripperies are immediately sidelined. The only 'review' Nicole needs is " Mother and baby are doing fine". Then, the credits and the soundtrack won't matter."

... and mum-of-two Frances Burscough says she's on wrong track

I wasn't at all surprised to hear that Nicole Kidman is planning to give birth accompanied by the tunes of James Galway. Not at all. She is highly successful, world famous in her field, incredibly skilled and yet terribly dull, so who better to serenade her?

The one thing that did surprise me though is that she is prepared to settle simply for his music on CD instead of being entertained personally by the man himself complete with full philharmonic orchestra. The PR possibilities for an eager diva with a baby on board are endless: hair by Garnier; make-up by Chanel; music by the Maestro flautist himself and the entire performance captured forever on a free CD in a Sunday paper. Or, better still, she could do an Angelina and rent herself a small yet picturesque African country and fly them all over on a private jet along with the camera crew.

Meanwhile, in the real world of the NHS hospital, real women go into labour accompanied by the sounds of cussing from the next cramped cubicle.

Music isn't a viable option, or it certainly wasn't 16 years ago when I went into Belfast's Royal Maternity Hospital expecting Luke. During my pregnancy, my doctor, my health visitor and the anti-natal staff had all expressed the importance of making a 'birth plan'.

We were given an official form to fill in all about personal preferences — a sort of maternity wish-list — where you put down all your advance requirements.

Do you want a home delivery?

If not, who do you wish to accompany you to the delivery suite? Do you want pain relief?

If so which method? Do you want a water birth or to use apparatus such as a birthing chair? Etc etc.

But when push comes to shove — literally — and you're in the throes of labour, none of it makes any difference. The hospital staff didn't even ask to see it. The ward was over-crowded, it was past midnight and many of the junior doctors on duty were like the walking dead.

In fact, the guy who came to my bed-side had been on-call for 20 hours but he had never used a syringe before and it took him five attempts to finally locate my vein.

Don't get me wrong — it wasn't a nightmarish experience but it certainly wasn't the stuff of soothing symphonies either.

Consequently I have chosen an alternative playlist which is much more realistic and down-to-earth for childbirth:

* Breathe In Breath Out by Kanye West

* Kick/Push by Lupe Fiasco

* Twist and Shout by The Beatles

* For Crying Out Loud by Anita Cochran

* Push Comes to Shove by Aerosmith

* Kicking and Screaming by Garth Brooks

* I'm Coming Out by Diana Ross

* Catch Me Daddy by Janis Joplin

* Born Slippy by Underworld

* Hyperactive Child by The Dead Kennedy's

* Insomnia by Faithless

* Dad's Gone Crazy by Eminem

* I'm Losing It by Akon"