Team Jenna

10/08/2026

❤️ **THIS IS WHY VOTING FOR PA MEANS SO MUCH MORE THAN A CONTEST.** ❤️

Many of you know my dad, Steven Westervelt, is competing in the Top Host competition. But I wanted to share something that makes this opportunity incredibly personal to our family.

Top Host supports the Ryan Seacrest Foundation, an organization that creates interactive media studios inside children's hospitals across the country.

And here's where our story comes in. 💜

Of the three hospitals where Jenna received treatment, **TWO had Seacrest Studios**, including her home hospital, Arnold Palmer Hospital for Children in Orlando.

When your child spends months and months in hospitals, you learn very quickly that sometimes the smallest distractions become the biggest gifts.

A song. A laugh. Something fun to look forward to. A few minutes where your child gets to forget about cancer and just be a kid.

**Those moments are EVERYTHING.**

My dad watched his granddaughter fight for her life. He saw what childhood cancer takes from a child and from an entire family.

So knowing that this competition supports a foundation that brings happiness, creativity, and a little normalcy into children's hospitals makes it so much more meaningful.

This isn't just about winning a title for Pa.

It's about something that was part of Jenna's world. Something that continues to make a difference for children and families walking the same heartbreaking road we did.

And I can't help but smile thinking about Jenna cheering on her Pa. She would absolutely be his biggest fan. 💜

So I'm asking you to help us show him just how many people are behind him!

❤️ **VOTE FOR PA — Steve Westervelt

🗳️ Vote here:
https://tophost.org/2026/steven-westervelt

Please vote, share, and help us spread the word!

**For Pa. For Jenna. And for every child who deserves moments of joy, even in the middle of the hardest fight.** 💜🎗️

Will Steven Westervelt be a guest on an episode of On Air with Ryan Seacrest, win $25,000, and lead a podcast produced by iHeartRadio?

10/05/2026

🎉 VOTING IS OFFICIALLY OPEN!! 🎉

Today is the FIRST DAY you can vote for my dad, Jenna’s Pa, Steve Westervelt in the Top Host competition! ❤️

I’m asking all of my friends and family for one little favor — please take a minute to vote for him today, and if you can, come back and vote each day! 🙏

Every single vote means more than you know. I would absolutely LOVE to see how far we can take him with all of us behind him!

Thank you to everyone who has already shared, encouraged him, and told me you’re ready to vote. NOW IT’S TIME!! 😂🙌

❤️ LET’S GO, PA!! ❤️
👇 VOTE FOR STEVEN HERE

https://tophost.org/2026/steven-westervelt

And please SHARE so we can get as many people voting as possible! ❤️

Will Steven Westervelt be a guest on an episode of On Air with Ryan Seacrest, win $25,000, and lead a podcast produced by iHeartRadio?

09/30/2026

💛🎗️ DAY 30 OF 30 — THIS DOESN’T END HERE 🎗️💛

Wow. We did it. Day 30.

For 30 days, I’ve opened my heart and shared pieces of Jenna’s story.

Some days were easy to write.

Some days I stared at my phone wondering how I was ever going to find the words.

And some days hurt like hell.

I shared the treatments, the hospitals, the fear and the reality of childhood cancer.

But more importantly, I shared Jenna.

Her smile.
Her strength.
Her friends.
Her horses. 🐴
Her stubbornness. 😂
Her determination.
Her incredible ability to keep living while she was fighting.

Because if you remember anything from these 30 days, I don’t want it to only be that Jenna had cancer.

I want you to remember JENNA.

Tomorrow is October 1st.

The gold ribbons may start coming down. The posts about childhood cancer may become fewer.

But for families like ours, there is no October 1st where this just goes away.

I’m still Jenna’s mom.

Matt is still Jenna’s dad.

She is still our daughter.

And we will still wake up every single day loving her, missing her and finding ways to keep her light shining.

So maybe these 30 days are ending…

but we aren’t done.

We’ll keep saying her name.

We’ll keep telling her story.

We’ll keep showing up for other families.

And we’ll keep fighting for a world where fewer parents ever have to understand what this gold ribbon truly means.

To every single person who read these posts, shared them, commented, wore gold, donated, prayed, cried with us, or simply learned something you didn’t know before—

Thank you.

Thank you for giving me a place to talk about my girl.

Thank you for letting me be her mom out loud.

And most of all…

thank you for remembering her.

💛🎗️ Day 30 of 30.

September ends tonight.

Jenna’s story doesn’t.

💜 JENNA TEACHMAN
Forever our girl.
Forever 12.
Forever . 🐴💜🎗️
The Jenna Effect 💫

09/28/2026

💛🎗️ DAY 28 OF 30 — SAY THEIR NAMES 🎗️💛

Before Jenna got sick, I never imagined how many children and families were living in this world of childhood cancer.

Then suddenly we were one of them.

And along the way, we learned so many names.

Children fighting.

Children in remission.

Children still dealing with the effects of treatment.

And children who should still be here.

Jenna.

Brayden.

Alex

And so many more. 💛

Every one of them is somebody’s entire world.

Behind every gold ribbon is a child with a personality, a favorite thing, people who love them, and a story that deserves to be known.

So today, I want to use Jenna’s page for all of them.

If childhood cancer has touched your life, put their name in the comments.

Your child.
Your grandchild.
Your sibling.
Your friend.
Someone you followed and came to love from afar.

Whether they are fighting, survived, or are no longer physically here — say their name.

And if you feel comfortable, tell us something about them.

Not their diagnosis.

Tell us who THEY are. 💛

What makes them laugh?

What do they love?

What is something you want the world to know about them?

I want to fill these comments with NAMES.

Because these children are so much more than statistics.

They are loved.

They matter.

And they deserve to be remembered.

I’ll start.

💜 JENNA.
Fearless. Friendly. Smart. Beautiful.
Horse girl. Our sassy daughter. Forever 12.

Now it’s your turn.

Say their names. 🎗️

💛 Day 28 of 30 — Today, this space belongs to ALL of them.

09/27/2026

💛🎗️ DAY 27 OF 30 — WHAT I KNOW NOW 🎗️💛

If I could sit down with the mom I was before Jenna had cancer, I honestly don’t know what I would tell her.

Maybe I wouldn’t tell her anything.

Because there are some things no parent should ever have to know.

I didn’t know what it felt like to hear the words “your child has cancer.”

I didn’t know how quickly you could learn a completely different language — scans, counts, chemo, tumors, clinical trials, protocols and medications you can barely pronounce.

I didn’t know you could be absolutely terrified and somehow still walk into your child’s room with a smile.

I didn’t know how many hours a parent could spend researching, making phone calls, sending records and searching for one more option.

I didn’t know how quickly strangers could become family.

I didn’t know how much a simple text saying “I’m thinking about you” could mean.

I didn’t know that you could simultaneously be incredibly grateful for one ordinary day and absolutely terrified of what tomorrow might bring.

And I definitely didn’t know how desperately you could want something as simple as normal.

Normal school mornings.

Normal arguments.

Normal weekends.

Normal teenage problems.

Just… normal.

Before Jenna got sick, I thought I understood how precious time was.

I didn’t.

Now I know that sometimes the moments you barely notice while they’re happening become the moments you’d give absolutely anything to have back.

The ride to school.

The mess in the bedroom.

The attitude. 😂

The sound of your child walking through the door.

One more “Mom.”

I also know something else.

Love doesn’t end when someone’s life does.

I’m still Jenna’s mom.

Matt is still Jenna’s dad.

She is still our daughter.

We just have to love her differently now.

These are things I wish I never had to learn.

But since I have, I’m going to keep talking about them.

Because maybe Jenna’s story makes someone hug their child a little longer.

Maybe it makes someone stop putting something off until someday.

Maybe it makes one more person understand why childhood cancer deserves our attention after September is over.

💛🎗️ Day 27 of 30 — What I know now.

Some lessons change you forever.

Jenna changed us forever. 💜

Forever our girl. Forever 12. Forever Jenna.

09/25/2026

💛🎗️ DAY 25 OF 30 — HER LIGHT LIVES ON 🎗️💛

Today’s post was supposed to be something completely different.

But then this morning happened. 💜

From the very beginning of Jenna’s journey, Matt’s work family at Florida Power & Light has been there for us.

Not just during the fight.

They’re still here.

Still checking on us.
Still supporting us.
Still saying her name.
Still finding ways to make sure our girl is never forgotten.

And this morning, they gave us something incredibly special.

A bench dedicated to Jenna at All Children’s Park here in Port Orange. 💜

A place where families will sit.

Where kids will play.

Where people may stop and read her name.

Some will know exactly who she was.

Others may have never heard her story before.

And maybe they’ll ask.

Maybe another person will learn about Jenna. Maybe another conversation about childhood cancer will begin.

That’s how her light keeps spreading.

There are days when it is incredibly hard to understand how the world keeps moving without her in it.

But then something like today happens, and we’re reminded that although Jenna isn’t physically here, the impact she made is still very much alive.

Her name is still being spoken.

Her story is still being told.

Her light is still reaching people.

And as her mom and dad, that means more to us than we could ever put into words.

To everyone at Florida Power & Light who has stood beside Matt and our family from the beginning — and to everyone who helped make Jenna’s bench possible —

Thank you.

Thank you for loving our family.

Thank you for continuing to show up.

And most of all…

Thank you for remembering our girl. 💜

Today, Day 25 isn’t about cancer.

It’s about Jenna’s light.

And I have a feeling that light is going to keep shining for a very, very long time. ✨💜

💛🎗️ Day 25 of 30 — Her light lives on.

JENNA 💜
Forever 12. Forever remembered. Forever shining.

09/24/2026

💛 Day 24 of 30 — The People Who Carried Us

Cancer didn’t just happen to Jenna. It happened to all of us.

There were so many days when Matt and I were running on fear, exhaustion and pure adrenaline — trying to make impossible decisions while still being Mom and Dad and making Jenna’s life feel as normal as we possibly could.

And somehow, people stepped in.

Family. Friends. Nurses. Doctors. Teachers. The horse community. Complete strangers. People who prayed, sent a message, brought food, helped us travel, wore purple, showed up for Jenna or simply reminded us that we weren’t carrying all of this alone.

Some of you probably don’t even realize how much one little thing you did mattered to us.

I wish love could have saved her. God, I wish it could have. Because Jenna had SO much of it.

But I will forever be grateful for every single person who loved our girl and helped carry our family through the hardest days of our lives.

And so many of you are still carrying us now. 💜

Day 24 of 30.
For everyone who showed up for Jenna — thank you. I will never forget it. 💛🎗️💜

09/23/2026

💛🎗️ DAY 23 OF 30 — THE NUMBERS HAVE NAMES 🎗️💛

Before Jenna had cancer, childhood cancer statistics were just that to me…

Statistics.

Numbers you hear.
Numbers you read.
Numbers you hope will never have anything to do with your family.

And then one day…

Jenna became one of those numbers.

And suddenly I understood something I wish I never had to understand.

Behind every childhood cancer statistic is someone’s baby.

There is a name.

A face.

A personality.

A favorite food.

A best friend.

A bedroom at home.

A laugh their parents would recognize anywhere.

Dreams about who they want to be when they grow up.

Jenna wasn’t a statistic.

She was our daughter.

She was fearless, friendly, smart and beautiful.

She loved horses. 🐴

She loved her friends.

She had plans.

She had a future.

And Brayden wasn’t a statistic either.

He was somebody’s little boy.

He had two moms who loved him beyond words, a family who fought beside him, and an entire life he should still be living. 💛

There are thousands of other names I don’t know.

Children fighting today.

Children who survived and live with what treatment did to their bodies.

And children whose parents would give absolutely anything to say their child’s name and hear them answer back.

So when you hear a childhood cancer statistic, please don’t just hear a number.

See a child.

And when you see that gold ribbon, remember what it represents.

Real children.

Real families.

Real lives forever changed.

For me, one of those names will always be:

JENNA. 💜

And now another is:

BRAYDEN. 💛

🎗️ Day 23 of 30 — The numbers have names. Say them. Remember them. Fight for them.

Forever 12. Forever Jenna. 💜🪽

09/22/2026

💛🎗️ DAY 22 OF 30 — WHAT CANCER COULDN’T TAKE 🎗️💛

Yesterday I shared some of the things childhood cancer stole from Jenna.

And God, there were so many.

But today I want to talk about what cancer NEVER got.

It never got her love for horses. 🐴

It never got her sense of humor.

It never got her sass.

It never got the way she loved her friends and family.

It never got her determination.

It never got that beautiful smile.

And it sure as hell never got her spirit.

Cancer changed Jenna’s body. It changed our plans. It changed where we went, what we did and what our days looked like.

But somehow, through all of it…

Jenna stayed Jenna.

She rode horses.

She competed.

She laughed.

She made videos.

She spent time with her friends.

She made memories.

She found things to look forward to—even during times when the adults around her were struggling to do the same.

And even now, cancer still doesn’t get everything.

It didn’t take our memories.

It didn’t take her stories.

It didn’t take the love people have for her.

It didn’t take the lives she changed.

And it sure as hell didn’t take her legacy.

I see pieces of Jenna everywhere now.

In the people wearing her shirts.

In her friends who still talk about her.

In the horse community that continues to honor her.

In every person who says her name.

And in every little piece of her that her dad and I will carry for the rest of our lives.

Cancer took more from us than I could ever put into words.

But it did NOT take who Jenna was.

And as long as I’m here, I’ll keep telling the world about her. 💜

💛🎗️ Day 22 of 30 — Cancer never got the best of her.

Forever my girl. Forever 12. Forever Jenna. 💜🪽