A SEVEN POUNDER TO GO

I was sat in the McDonald’s drive-thru queue with my partner Joshua, 22, and his mum. I was heavily pregnant, and my contractions had already started earlier that day .

‘What do you fancy, pet?’ Joshua’s mum, Michelle asked.

‘A quarter pounder and fries, please,’ I said. I hadn’t eaten all day and I was starving.

I sat in the car rubbing my bump in circular motions. My contractions hit me with painful shoots every three minutes.

Earlier that day, I’d been to see the midwife, Jo, in hospital.