And even though the subject of marriage, let alone child bearing, had not yet come up between Andrew and me—we’d only been dating for three months—we got engaged. Neither one of us had any idea what we were doing or what to expect, but there were things we strongly believed to be true: that we were in love, that our baby was made from this love, and that we were going to do our best to nourish the new life we had created together. We’d had sex, the pill didn’t work, and we made a baby. The question of whether I wanted one was moot. I knew that somehow my whole life had led me there, and I felt I had to take responsibility for my actions. Step up. Grow up.