PennLive.com -- It's hard to tell whether the little boy growing inside Amber Yohn's belly will have his father's smile or his freckles.
But Yohn can see hints of her husband through the golden brown-and-black ultrasound pictures she's stored on her laptop, along with digital images of happier times she's shared with her husband.

On Thursday in their Highspire home, Yohn paged through the pictures with tears in her eyes, two days after she learned her husband of about four months died while serving with the U.S. Army in Iraq.
Details about how Pfc. James M. Yohn, 25, died were not available yet from the Department of Defense, which had not officially announced his death. His body is to be returned home within 10 days, a thought his wife said she can't bear.
"It's just so weird because he liked to go out and have fun," Amber Yohn, 20, said. "He was so lively, just fun to be around. ... He could make you laugh, you know?"
He did so the night he and Amber met, at a Texas club near Fort Hood, where James, a Highspire firefighter who joined the Army after the Sept. 11, 2001, attacks, had been stationed.
Amber said she thought James and his friends were "too rowdy" but "they looked like fun" so she went over to talk.
Little did Amber know that the "fun-loving" man she met that night in July would become her life. The couple married in February.
James' mother, Judy Yohn, realized he was in love the day he called her and described himself as "content." The late soldier's father is Robert Fisher of Shamokin.
"I knew then that he was as happy as he ever was," Judy Yohn said, and he grew even happier once he learned he was going to be a father. His son will be named Jimmy Michael Yohn Jr.
Amber took a pregnancy test in October, about two weeks after James was deployed. While he was on leave, the couple were married by a district judge.
On Thursday, Amber watched a video taken on her digital camera the day they were wed. A smiling groom-to-be sang to a song playing in the car as the couple drove to the ceremony. "He was such a goof," she said. "I loved it."
She also showed pictures of the expectant father beaming with delight, one of which showed his handprints on yellow paint on her growing belly.
With her son's birth three weeks away, Amber can't help but think about all the things her husband missed while she was pregnant and all of the things she'll miss now that he's gone. The couple planned to have more children.
The pictures and video will forever remind Amber of the man she loves but whom she will never be able to hug, talk to or kiss, she said.
Another reminder was left weeks ago on Amber's voice mail. She listened to it repeatedly the day she learned of her husband's death. "It says, 'You're the most beautiful girl in the world. I miss you so much. I can't wait to come home,'ยค" Amber said, tears dropping from her eyes.
The yellow-sided row house on Second Street that she shares with her mother-in-law has been flooded by those who knew James and who wanted to send their condolences.
Some were neighbors, friends and firefighters who volunteered with James at the Highspire Fire Department. Others wanted to show their support, like the man who knocked on the screen door to give Judy Yohn a hug.
"My front door should have been a revolving door," she said. "There were so many people and so many people calling."
If there's one thing she wants people to take away from her son's death, it's this: "Her son was a hero who died for his country." She'll tell that to Jimmy Yohn Jr. when he's old enough to understand.
In the meantime, Judy finds comfort knowing that her son's memory won't just be found in pictures. "He will continue to live in my grandson," she said. "That's his legacy."