I laughed so hard my waters broke!

Charlotte Carney, aged 20, tells her birth story: 'It all began five days before my due date, Tuesday 23rd October, my mother's birthday - and while I was watching The Simpsons!

I'll never forget it: Bart Simpson making another smart comment sent me into fits of giggles again, and mid-giggle I felt a pop. I didn't really think much of it considering I was lying flat on my back... until I stood up and discovered that my socks had somehow got covered in some wet substance.

You can imagine how hysterical I went when the leaking didnt stop! I waddled to the bathroom rather like a penguin and screamed for my partner Andrew.

He ran in thinking it was nothing, until he found me crying half naked on the loo. I told him I thought my waters had broken (how I could have doubted it, I do not know: I was pouring buckets!).

I had been having uncomfortable irregular contractions on and off for days yet thought nothing of it until now. I had presumed they were braxton hicks contractions that I had heard so much about from Prima Baby magazine and from others on babyexpert.com.

I telephoned the hospital straight away, and the midwife told me to come straight in to be examined. As my partner is epileptic and cannot drive I phoned my birthing partner Emma to bring me to the hospital. She was more excited than I was, she thought the baby was on its way.

A night of pain

I arrived at the hospital at 8pm on the 23rd October and wasn't seen nor examined until nearly 10pm. I was told to wear a pad prior to arriving at the hospital, and thank God I did. It was like having a tap between my legs...tmi I know!

They took the pad away to test the fluid and confirmed yes all my waters had gone. Shortly after this I had a show, which surprisingly did not look like I thought it would, it was clearer rather than bloody.

I was left to lie on a bed for a while to see if my contractions started, so we all waited and waited. An hour and a half later still nothing, so the midwife told me I could go home and wait for my contractions to begin in the next 12 hours or come back in the morning for an induction.

I chose to go home and wait until the morning, I was shattered and wanted to try and get some sleep. I arrived home and got into bed. I had such a peaceful night's sleep, much to my dismay - I was hoping my contractions would have started.

I got up next morning and was at the hospital by 12, the midwife told me she would not examine me again due to the risk of infection. I then told her I wanted to have the induction that day but the midwife said I was not a priority and she would book me in for tomorrow.

I nearly cried. I got home and rang everyone to tell them I was not having my baby, but would be induced the following day. I spent the entire evening watching The Simpsons on DVD again with my partner Andrew.

Until 10pm, that is. At 10pm I started to get excruciating pains, not building up as I'd initially expected. They were irregular with no pattern.

I rang the labour ward once or twice insisting that I was in agony, but the nurses told me to take paracetamol and have a bath. I'd already had paracetamol to try and help with the pain and it was like taking Smarties, it made no difference to me.

I took a bath and as soon as I did my contractions became much much worse, they began to regulate. By this time it was after 1am and I was screaming with the pain, while my darling partner was having a nice snooze in bed.

I had about 4 baths in a row, in out in out in out in out is how it went and slowly slowly my contractions got closer and closer. At 4am I was in the bath and screamed by head off, at this point Andrew heard me and got out of bed, my contractions were 7 minutes apart and the pain was so awful it almost took my breath away.

I had been texting Emma on and off all evening and she knew how I was progressing. This all continued until 5.30am when Emma came to pick me up, her 5-year-old son Jack was in the car too.

Contractions growing stronger

Andrew and I got into the car and Emma drove over every bump on the road, or so it seemed. My contractions went to every five minutes and my screams got louder.

Poor little Jack turned and said, 'Charlotte, could you please stop shouting you're giving me a headache?' I arrived at Leighton hospital at 6am and was taken into the labour ward. I was examined and was told I was only 2cm dilated. I was gutted.

The midwife told me to get changed into a nightie and get into bed and have something to eat. She brought me some cornflakes and I told her I felt like I was going to puke, she assured me it was a common feeling and I wouldn't. One spoonful in and I had my head down the loo.

Due to the fact that I was due to be induced anyway and I was dilating really slowly, the midwifes decided at 8.30am they would administer a drug to bring on my contractions and antibiotics to counteract any infections.

My contractions made me feel sicker and sicker, and to top it off I wasn't allowed to walk around a whole lot. At 8.30am I was strapped to a machine to monitor the baby's heart rate, I also had a drip into my hand which meant I was confined to the bed throughout my labour, which wasn't exactly how I had pictured it.

As soon as I had the induction drug the contractions instantly strengthened and got closer. The pain was excruciating. I immediately asked for pain relief and was given gas and air, oh what magical stuff. It didn't take away the pain but it made things fuzzy and made me very happy.

The midwife told me to breathe the gas and air with every contraction; I was biting so hard on the mouth piece my lips turned purple. But I didn't care, the gas and air was working.

My contractions continued to get closer and closer which was when I was given a shot of pethidine. I managed to sleep between contractions and it made me feel more relaxed, it was lovely. This continued until about 11.15 am when they were on top of one another, the pain was shocking but I knew I would soon be meeting my baby.

The final push

My partner Andy was my rock, holding my hand, giving me drinks and assuring me how well I was doing, as was Emma. I felt so sorry for Andrew, though: I squeezed his hand so hard at one point that I broke his thumb, yet he didn't moan once, that's love for you!

By now, my contractions were on top of each other and my midwife asked me how I was feeling. I could feel lots of pressure and I knew it was my baby's head, but I screamed at her, 'I feel like I need a poo!' I was so scared I was going to poo the bed so she brought me to the toilet,  but I could not open my bowels or anything.

But it did help me to push. I got back on the bed and the midwife told me it was time to push, I was trying and trying but felt I was getting nowhere fast. I was pushing and pushing but making no progress, I was crying and crying that I couldn't do it but everyone assured me I was doing fabulous.

I got onto my knees and turned around to the top of the bed, I pushed and pushed. I was biting down on the bed so hard at this point and the midwife said I needed two more big pushes.

From nowhere, I got courage and drive. I made two final screams which sounded rather monster-like and literally two minutes later my baby was brought into the world.

It was a baby girl. It was 12.17pm on the 25th October 2007.

I felt a whoosh and a sudden flood of relief swept over me, my baby was out. I was covered in blood and still disorientated from the pethidine and gas and air but I was the proudest mummy alive.

She was immediately put onto my chest for skin to skin and the cord was cut. I had never seen anything so perfect. She was then passed to her daddy for a cuddle. Andy, Emma and I all at the same moment burst into tears, it was an amazing moment for us.

She was 6lb 2oz and the tiniest little thing we had ever seen, we named her Faith Lynne. We chose Faith because up until my 20-week scan we had every "faith" she was a boy, and Lynne because of Andrew's mother. She's disabled but supported me the entire way through my pregnancy, she was amazing. So, we thought it only fitting our new baby adopt her fantastic nana's name.

It was the most painful yet most amazing experience of my life and I wouldn't change a minute of it. The staff were amazing and my friend and family even more so - I could not have done it without them.

I was discharged 24 hours later. My baby girl is now 11 months and is walking, starting to talk and has 12 teeth, no longer the tiny little princess I gave birth to but a stunning intelligent little girl.'

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