I'm not sure if I truly belong in this group, because I'm not married and I'm only 17. Nearly two years ago, when I was fifteen, my boyfriend of the time raped me and I got pregnant. One year and nine months ago I gave birth to a premature child almost six months before she was due. I was taking a shower and I slipped. I was in labor for thirty minues or so before she was born. She was smaller then my hand and her skin was translucent and opaque, but I couldn't help but think she was beautiful. She was still alive when she was born, but she died within ten minutes. I didn't know what to do. I was heartbroken - as much as I loathed her father, I couldn't help but love her with all my heart. My parents didn't know what had happened, they didn't know I was pregnant, and my own father never would have believed that I was raped, so I buried her that night at the foot of the massive oak tree in my backyard. From the time I realized I was pregnant, I prayed to God to help me and give me strengh. I didn't know how I was going to tell my parents, but I was determined to have my child and I know I couldn't have given her up for adoption, I wouldn't have had that kind of strength. I know that God knew what He was doing when He brought my child to Heaven to live with Him and His Son. I know that she wouldn't have had a wonderful life living here, not with my father. My mother and I would have loved her till the end of the universe, I still do, but not my father. So I know that her not having to face that life is for the best and I know that I'll see her again, that God's taking much better care of her then I could, but it still hurts. I don't know what to do.