My friends were helpful and full of love for the baby and me, but things were awkward. Changing John Michael’s diaper didn’t go very well in a dorm room. I couldn’t really add much to talk of summer parties and leave-term internships. It might have helped if I’d had a political agenda, but I didn’t. The pro-life community would have embraced me. Or even the campus chapter of NOW; I was proof that a woman could choose to have it all. Neither seemed the right thing. I didn’t know where or with whom I fit. The only thing I knew for sure was that if I thought about my baby during class, it made my breast milk come down.