I was 16. I was pregnant with my tennis coach’s child. In my 16 year old mind, I had no other option but to have an abortion. No one talks about the grief you feel over the death of your unborn child, even when you facilitated it. I met Jesus a year later. Though I know I’m forgiven, that grief and shame remain. I named my baby Seth. I’ve planted flowers in a special area of my yard for him.