The following is an edited version of Jani’s story as told by her father, Michael Schofield.

I fell in love with January the first time I saw her, although I didn’t even know she was January then. It was Susan’s first ultrasound at 10 weeks. Jani was only a head and four stubby limbs, but the ultrasound found her right away, floating right in the middle, already the largest thing in our life at an inch long.

The next time we saw her was at 25 weeks. The obstetrician commented on how Jani was face on to the ultrasound, as if she could hear it, hear us, which we were told was unusual. Typically, we were told, the fetus often hides, but Jani was right there. Her eyes were open. We watched her blink.

She was awake even then, and she would stay awake. She moved constantly, so much so that when on Memorial Day, 2002 Susan did not feel her move for 90 minutes, she panicked and broke down; terrified that Jani had died inside. She cried with relief when Jani finally moved. She had just been asleep.

She was born on August 8th, 2002 at 1:06am. That is still one of the happiest moments of my life. I can still remember how it felt to hold my child for the first time and the disbelief that I had anything to do with her creation. She made me forget every worry I had felt in advance of her birth. I forgot about the claim that you would spend a million dollars getting a child to adulthood. I forgot about private schools and college funds. It was a moment of pure simplicity. That was Jani’s first gift to me.