I was alone when I went into labor.  My husband was at work and our two children were asleep.  I called Christiane who came and explained the hospital would probably send me home because I wasn't very far along.

I enjoyed the privacy of a bath without little kids saying "How come you get it so deep and we don't?"  Then I wondered if we should call someone, and my husband tried to help me get my housecoat on, and we left in the truck with me leaning on the window, perched on my knees.

Christiane was beside me, telling me I was fine.

I was listening to my body, inhaling through my nose and exhaling out my mouth, with my voice low and mouth open.

I did not push.  Eva was born in our truck with the amniotic sac intact.  I was safe between my husband and Christiane, who could care for the baby.  Eva's head came out on Summit Avenue, and that's a pretty place at 2:00 am with the view of the harbor.  We didn't stop.  The rest of her slid out under the eaves of the emergency entrance.

Chris wrapped Eva in my discarded housecoat to warm her, while my husband rang the bell.  The emergency nurse got in a flap and let the hospital door close  behind her and we were all locked out until a security guard heard her banging on the door.

It was a fabulous birth.  I will never forget our doula saying, "Your baby's fine."  Or my husband touching Eva with his gentle, loving manner.  The doctor arrived ten minutes later and laughed.

The truck was the place for this perfect birth.  I was secure, safe and calm.  My body opened.  The best advice is: Don't be afraid.  I wasn't; I am exhilarated when I think of the birth of Eva.

Irish friends said because she was born in the sac, she will have a lucky life.  Scottish friends told us she will never drown.