When you think of abortion, what comes to mind? Is it tiny, fragile babies, being ripped apart, piece by piece? Does it bring to mind images of tiny fingers and toes, perhaps lying on the face of a coin? Do you think of the abortionists who have stated in interviews and debates how they would pull arms and legs off one by one, and squeeze the skull with forceps until the brain flowed out? Perhaps when you think of abortion you think of a brother or a sister, a niece or a nephew; someone you might have known, but never will know.