“When I was 18 and about seven months pregnant, I bumped into a friend of my mother’s at the clinic.”
That’s the beginning of my new Lives essay in this week’s New York Times Magazine. You can read the rest here.
(The essay’s title, “Eighteen & Pregnant,” is not one I chose, and I find it hilarious. I would’ve gone with something, shall we say, not quite so tabloid-happy.)