This isn't supposed to be happening. I should have known better than to get myself in this position. Teenage girls get themselves 'in trouble' not mature responsible women. But here I am, eight weeks pregnant and shaking with fear.

Not because I don't want this child, there's nothing that could bring me more joy. It's simply because I have to tell the man I love that he's going to be a father. And I have no idea how he's going to react.

The only thing to do is plunge straight in.

"Jean-Luc, there's something I've been meaning to tell you..."