It has been exactly one week since I was told that my daughter died. I was 34 weeks pregnant. Yesterday was her funeral service. When we went to bed last night, my 3 1/2 year old son saw that I had brought to bed a blanket that I had picked out for her. He asked why I was sleeping with it. I told him it was because I missed baby sister. He put his hand on my face and said "I don't want baby sister to be with Jesus". I reminded him that none of us do but that she couldn't be with us. To that he thought for a moment, yawned, and then said "Tomorrow I will fix this. I need your help tomorrow momma...to fix this."