Simulator babies featured in Channel 4's Big Brother and are used by schools to encourage young people to think about the responsibilities having a child bring. Stroud teenager Laura Pitel, 19, accepted the challenge of becoming a mother for a weekend.

WHEN I first found out I'd be getting a Real Care baby I was really excited. I'd seen them on television and the little girl in me leapt at the thought of caring for what sounded like a high-tech doll.

Then I found out what a simulator baby actually entails. All the same things as a real baby, including crying in the early hours - and serious apprehension began to set in.

By the time the baby - a boy - was delivered (by courier, not midwife, thank God) I was ready to send it straight back.

The manual helpfully informed me that he was programmed to start at 7pm.

As I nervously watched the clock I got a sense of the excitement tinged with dread that must come with a pregnancy.

Only this one lasted nine hours, rather than nine months.

Seven o'clock came, and disconcertingly, nothing happened.

Then, half-an-hour later he started not to cry, but wail.

The sound is recorded from a real baby - and is irritatingly realistic.

Just like a real baby, he wouldn't tell me what was wrong, so I had to try feeding him, changing his nappy and rocking him.

But exasperation at not knowing what to do quickly turned to satisfaction when I got it right.

Despite my initial misgivings I began to grow quite attached to my baby. I even gave him a name - Charlie.

The first night was a challenge. He cried five times, sometimes at annoyingly short intervals, although he did allow me a good stint of sleep from 6pm-9am.

The company which runs the scheme, Life Choice, encourages students to attempt everyday activities with their baby.

I obliged by taking Charlie to the supermarket and on the bus and I discovered how much more trying these everyday tasks become when carrying an awkward 7lb baby which can start crying at any second.

My biggest problem came in the form of a last-minute party invitation.

My parents, who had decided to take this whole exercise very seriously, refused to look after Charlie for the night, and didn't want to let me go unless I took him along.

I couldn't switch him off and I could hardly leave a simulator baby in the corner crying all night - it could cause a serious misunderstanding, but I simply had to go.

In the end poor Charlie was shut in the kitchen overnight, tarnishing my otherwise good 'care record.'

The rest of the weekend went fairly smoothly as I got the hang of looking after my baby but the Saturday night abandonment still led me to feel a surprisingly large amount of guilt.

It made me realise just how disruptive a real baby would be and that even as I approach my 20s I am still far too selfish to be a good mother.

So when Charlie let out a final gurgle before switching himself off at precisely 3pm on Sunday it was hard to define what I felt.

I think it was part fulfilment, part sadness, and also a sizeable chunk of relief.