OK, my birth story, or what I remember of it anyway. It's going to be a long one, sorry.
I'd had contractions from about midnight until 6am on Monday 1st, but they stopped when I got up and had breakfast. My Mum was visiting and really hoped the baby would arrive before she left on the Thursday. On Tuesday night I was having some tightenings but tried not to get my hopes up. At 1amish on Weds I woke with some crampy pains and more uncomfortable tightenings which built up to about 12 min apart. They didn't get any more frequent so I tried to get back to sleep. I woke again at about 4.30 and they finally started to get more intense and frequent; I went to get washed and ready to go to hospital just in case, and at one point they were coming every 3.5 mins. I woke DH up and he practically flew out of bed to get dressed, bless him. I told him not to panic :) but he tried calling the Birth Centre to say we'd be coming in. Nobody answered. Tried again, nobody answered. We phoned SIL to give us a lift, kept trying the Birth Centre from the car, and eventually phoned the hospital. They said to come to labour ward and someone would contact the Birth Centre. The contractions slowed a bit in the car but were still every 5-10 mins.
We arrived at the hospital at about 7.30am, not knowing if the Birth Centre would have room for us, but the receptionist called them and eventually told us we could go down. They took us to a lovely room with double bed, en suite shower room, and birthing pool. A midwife examined me and did a bit of a sweep. I was only 2-3cm but very stretchy. She sent us off for a walk round the hospital to get the contractions going. When I was moving the contractions were coming about every minute. I breathed through them and tried to tell myself "it doesn't hurt, it's just a strong feeling of pressure" (bit wanky, but it did seem to help!) and DH rubbed my back. We had a coffee in the hospital cafe probably freaking out the other customers then headed back. When we got back there was a new MW on shift, who had actually looked after us when I was in labour with DD1. She also had a medical student who wanted to watch, and bless him, he was lovely, but having a young guy making idle chit chat was not conducive to keeping my contractions going! We went for another walk, up and 5 flights of stairs a couple of times, and again was contracting very frequently. We headed back and the midwife examined me again; I was now about 4cm (had been hoping I was at least 6!). The contractions started getting much more intense though, and the next time the MW came in I asked to try gas and air. And this is where it all gets a bit hazy 
I don't think I was using the g&a correctly with DD1, but this time I clung to it like my life depended on it and it definitely helped. It also made me feel quite strange, and messed up my perception of time completely. At one point it seemed like hours had gone by, but when I checked the clock it had only been about 40 mins. The MW would pop in occasionally but DH had to answer any questions because I was off my head not quite aware. I remember her saying things like "That was a long one" and "there's not much time between contractions now, is there?". At one point someone brought lunch and DH fed me a few mouthfuls in between contractions.
And then there's a period of about 2.5 hours that I can't really remember at all. I don't know if that's down to the g&a or just me going into the "zone", but the next thing I remember is being on the bed, moaning loudly (with the g&a mouthpiece still clamped between my teeth, obviously!) and wanting to push. I was bloody noisy though 
I howled with every push; it just felt right, so I went with it. DH says I pushed for about an hour. I remember saying that I couldn't do it, and that it hurt, and at one point the MW told me to pant. Then she told me to push as hard as I could and I just thought "fuck it, I want this to be over" so I gave it everything I could (still screaming; luckily there was nobody else in labour in the Birth Centre, I probably would have terrified them!). The MW told me the head was out, and after a couple more pushes I felt the rest of DD2 come whooshing out. And suddenly I felt like I'd snapped back to reality, like someone had clicked their fingers and brought me back. It was very strange, and the relief that it was over was immense. I was still a bit in shock though; the MW put DD2 straight onto my chest but I don't think I noticed! I was shivering, not from cold but from the adrenaline. Then they took her to clean her up, and said we'd need to stay overnight as there had been meconium in my waters. She had been born back to back, completely facing up instead of towards my spine. I was quite pleased to have pushed her out by myself, as I'd neeed ventouse for DD1 who was in the same position. The MW helped deliver the placenta, which was a bit painful and took a while, and she put in a catheter in case my full bladder was preventing the placenta coming out.
I was taken up to a delivery suite as I'd torn during delivery and they had to check if it was 2nd or 3rd degree; luckily it was 2nd, as if it had been 3rd I'd have needed a spinal while they repaired it. The poking around was horrible, and I feel it my duty to warn those of you still wating that they might stick a finger up your "back passage" to make sure it's still intact 
They gave me a local anaesthetic injection and stitched me up there and then (still unpleasant, but again the g&a was my best friend). Then they took us back to the Birth Centre, to a smaller room, to spend the night. They brought tea and toast, and post-childbirth tea and toast is the best you'll ever eat, believe me It was about 5.30pm by this point, and DH went home to see DD1, then came back once she was in bed and stayed with me and DD2. She fed lots overnight - I wish I'd paid more attention to latching her on properly, I'd have avoided a lot of damage and pain later on - and the midwife had to come in every 2 hours to do observations on DD2, but we did manage to get some sleep as well.
The next morning we had to wait for a midwife to check DD2 and also for a hearing test, then we were finally discharged at lunchtime. I have to say, I felt amazing; despite the pain and the hard work and thinking both during and afterwards that I did not ever want to do that again, overall I felt really positive. Not needing intervention and being able to stay in the BC overnight (as opposed to ventouse and staying on the postnatal ward by myself last time) made the whole thing much nicer. My stitches didn't seem to be as bad as last time either. And I'd just had a baby, all by myself!
And 10 days later I've been through a bit of a hellish time with badly damaged nipples (which are now improving), I can't remember what a full nights' sleep feels like, I'm scared to look properly at the state of my undercarriage, my tummy still look like I'm 6mo pregnant (although now it's wobbly like jelly) and I don't know how I'll manage when DH goes back to work on Monday. But it's worth it all just to watch DD2's little facial expressions, to hear the little newborn grunts and squeaks, and to have her nuzzle into my neck and fall asleep to the sound of my heartbeat :)