I Just Watched the Royal Baby Hospital Live Feed for the Last Hour of My Life and Have Lots to Report

07/22/2013 2:20 PM |

These people (Ben and Marina Fogle) are at the same hospital, awaiting the birth of their non-royal baby. (It's a hospital for perfect people.)

  • The Telegraph
  • Just so you know, this guy (Ben Fogle, pictured here with wife Marina and their two kids) are at the same hospital as the Duke and Duchess, awaiting the birth of his sister’s non-royal baby. (All of Britain’s perfect people use the same hospital, it would appear.)

So here’s where things stand as of noon EDT: Kate Middleton is in labor. We think. We, the contingent of people who care about this sort of thing, also think that the Royal Family will exit through the Lindo Wing of St. Mary’s Hospital in West London, where Kate and Will were driven this morning around 2:30, which is why British news source The Telegraph set up a live feed of its doors last week (there’s also a live blog for people who prefer words to pictures).

Amidst a steady stream of passing cars, bikes and leisurely foot traffic, there’s a constant murmur of reporters starting to run out of things to say. I picked the hour that my gut said would see the birth of a Prince or Princess and spent it watching the live stream unfold since you probably have a real job and wouldn’t be able to…


12:07pm: One of the two guards surrounding either side of the door adjusts their jaunty hat. The other one drinks from a bottle of water.

12:08pm: Two more guards show up and talk to the two at the door. They point at things. Then they walk away, leaving the original two guards to starve to death.

12:11pm: Off-camera a British woman tells someone or perhaps no one at all: “It’s going to be a girl, it’s gotta be a girl.” (Or off with her head?!)

12:18pm: I’m pretty bored, thanks for asking.

12:19pm: Though out of sight, you can hear the clamor of barricades being moved. Judging from the flurry of voices, it seems to be the most important thing that these people have been involved in all day or month.

12:21pm: A passerby stops to take a photo of the crowd.

12:22pm: Someone walks out of the door! It’s a gentleman in a gray suit and a pink tie. No one cares.

12:23pm: A guy in a khaki shorts and a blue button-down, carrying a bag with a flower print slung over his shoulder, shows up and is escorted through the doors by one of the guards. Perhaps he’s Ben Fogle, poor bloke who is awaiting the birth of his sister’s poor, regular, unroyal child.

12:28pm: Off-camera, French reporters say stuff in French. I hear the word “Catherine.”

12:29pm: Guard on the left goes inside, fleeing the daylight.

12:30pm Guard on the left returns.

12:33pm: I remember watching the Olympics.

12:34pm: A British man says he needs to check his camera’s focus.

12:37pm: A man yells out triumphantly, “He’s a poet and didn’t even know it!” People clap.

12:38pm: Major action. Two men wearing identical khakis and blue shirts walk in through the doors; an older couple walks out at the same time.

12:40pm: The two guards talk to each other briefly. One of them laughs, presumably upon realizing this whole thing may be a ruse and neither Duke, Duchess nor Baby have any plans of leaving the hospital through these doors. “Hahahahaha.”

12:41pm: A bold woman marches up to the door and takes a picture. In America, there might have been a riot.

12:42pm: A woman in a black dress wearing some sort of credentials around her neck exits the doors and trots down the stairs like she’s important and therefore in a hurry.

12:44pm: Reporters plot out their game plan of standing on the right or the left (on the right or left of what?!). “The right would look better,” they conclude.

12:45pm: OH, GOD, THERE’S A THREAT OF RAIN. A gray-haired Brit in a red-orange tie looks up to the sky and says, “At least the thunderstorm looks like it’s going to hold off,” which implies there’s at least a chance of rain.

12:46pm: Then he says, “What’s that smell?” Thank you, guy in the red-orange tie, for keeping this interesting.

12:48pm: Someone flashes the peace sign in front of the camera.

12:54pm: Someone shouts, “Give it a wave. A royal wave!” off-camera.

12:55pm: The identically blue-shirtted men who arrived at 12:38pm now exit through the doors, conversing chummily.

12:58pm: Guard on the right returns to their post after being gone for a little bit. (I guess they left for a few minutes? I’m really bad at this.) They take a swig of water.

12:59pm: A black cab drives by and cheerfully honks to the crowd in a series of short successions. There are ripples of cheers.

1:02pm: Another passerby, this one in a madras shirt, stands in front of the crowd and snaps a photo, then walks away all causal, like “My wife made me do it.”

1:10pm: A radiant Duchess and Duke emerge from the doors, hoisting His/Her Royal Highness Prince/Princess of Cambridge above their heads while the crowd falls to their knees and a rainbow appears. Someone in a yellow helmet passes by on a bike.

Follow Lauren Beck at @heylaurenbeck.