Twenty-three years ago today, I underwent the single most life-altering event I would ever experience. In a matter of minutes, I transitioned from girl to mother. Looking back…I was the furthest thing from an adult at 21. All of the aspects of my life that I thought made me an adult at that time proved to be nothing more than the equivalent of playing dress up in my mom’s closet. I had a full time job, I had lived on my own (although I moved back in with my parents during my pregnancy), I had saved a decent amount of money, I had graduated high school and gone to college, I paid my own bills, and I certainly looked like a young adult…but in terms of maturity…I was still a child. I was a child having a baby. A lonely, scared child. My life was full of love, support, and help from my family and my closest friends…but at the end of the day, I knew that this baby was mine. Mine alone. Mine to love. Mine to care for. Mine to provide for. Mine to mess up. Mine.