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

January First

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.

Ninety minutes after birth, lying swaddled in Susan’s arms, her eyes were open and she seemed to follow me and the camcorder around the room, although the nurse assured us newborn babies couldn’t focus.

The nurses reported Jani was the best-behaved newborn in the nursery. While the other newborns screamed and cried, Jani seemed content.

On August 10th, we brought her home. The first week passed. Everything seemed normal. Jani slept, drank from her bottle, and watched. Susan and I looked forward to the future, relieved that everything was working out.

On the seventh day of her life, Jani awoke, but this time she did not go back to sleep. She screamed. Constantly. We fed her. We changed her. We held her. We played with her. Nothing worked.

When Jani would fall asleep, we would put her down in the crib and run to our bed to sleep while she did. But just as we started to fall asleep, we heard Jani start to howl.