Last year -- Aug. 11, 2008

This was the day we found out Jenna had died. We had decided to have an ultrasound to see exactly what kind of birth defects we were dealing with after we weren't able to end the pregnancy.

Brian couldn't go with me that day, as Tessa had her kindergarten physical that morning. He had to take her, because we hadn't had a chance to do it with everything else going on. For some reason, I didn't want to go by myself. Well, actually, I did have a logical reason for not wanting to drive my car. The back end had a shimmy in it, and I was scared to drive it the 45 minutes to the doctor's office.

My mom was working that day, so I asked my aunt to go with me. She knew I was having an ultrasound, so she was excited about seeing Jenna on the screen. Truth be told, I was hoping her cystic hygroma had shrunk and maybe we would be able to see a bit more brain matter on the screen. I also hoped my fluid levels had gone up, indicating her kidneys were at least working a little bit.

I knew when she ran the ultrasound wand over my belly that she was gone. She wasn't moving, and I didn't see the flicker on the screen. The ultrasound tech who was so sweet just said, "Sweetie, there's no heartbeat."

You know, I didn't really break down much then. I cried some, but not as much as I had imagined. My aunt kept telling me she was with Granny.

We went downstairs to see Dr. McGowen, and she explained what would happen. She wanted me to be back at the hospital by 8 p.m., and said for me to take the time to be home with my family for a little while.

When we left, I hadn't really eaten anything all day, so we went to Wendy's, where I got a chicken club sandwich. I haven't eaten one since. When I got home, Tessa was watching "Yo Gabba Gabba" on television. I can't even see characters from that show now without my stomach turning. I think it's because it was on when I told Tessa that her sister had died. I told her we were going to the hospital to have her, and she could stay with my aunt or her nana. She chose to stay with my aunt across the street.

We got to the hospital that night and had a wonderful nurse. She started the cytotec and just listened to us talk. I can't say enough about her or the nurse we had the next day.

So, tomorrow is her birthday. I am doing all right today. Tomorrow may be worse. I doubt anyone but Brian, Tessa and I are going to remember. I don't want to have to tell anyone what tomorrow is. I want them to remember on their own, but they won't.

I'm going to order pink and white balloons, 10 of each color, one for each week she was with us and let them go. I'm also planning to do cupcakes. I'm working later than normal tomorrow, so I know that will help take my mind off it some.