First and foremost, my infinite gratitude goes to my beautiful cousin, Rachel Clark. It was through her eyes that I was able to see Kenya; through her touch that I was able to feel its surroundings; and, mostly, through her arms that I was able to hug the delightful children at the Kenyan orphanage where she has repeatedly volunteered. Rachel, it is because of you that I was able to find the words to describe Kenya, both in its hardship and all of its beauty. You continually encouraged me to write this story — from our walk at the cottage when I first told you about the idea for the book (and you immediately pulled out your pictures, journals and videos of Kenya!) to all of the one-line emails you would shoot me back from the small Internet café in Ngong when I had some silly question about what Kenyan dirt felt like. Through this entire process, you remained absolutely committed to sharing every piece of information about Kenya that I needed to bring this book to life, and I will never forget that. I love you, cuz.
Thank you to all of my friends and family who believed in this book and read the manuscript long before there was even a slim possibility of it being published, particularly Wendy Gardham, who was the very first person to raise her hand and ask to read the words that weren’t yet a real book. And to the others who shortly followed — Brooke Allen, Ines Colucci and my brother, Ian Clark, who frequently has his nose in some finance or other non-fiction book but would never typically pick up women’s fiction, let alone remain committed to reading the whole thing in a few days.
My thanks to both Lori Mastronardi and Chantel Simmons, who both read this story not once, but (at least!) twice in order to help turn an unpublished manuscript into a novel. You have both guided me immensely during this process.
To Anthony Iantorno, who immediately forwarded the manuscript on and fought for its chance to be published — and to Erin Creasey who, on the other end of Anthony’s pass, immediately embraced it with eyes wide open. I will forever be grateful to both of you for immediately and continually believing in this book.
Thank you to my editor, Jen Hale, who saw something in the story of Nicky’s journey from the very first time she read it. She wholeheartedly took on the project with enthusiasm, and it was through her patience, talent and keen instinct that this book became what it is today. And, lucky for me, through our process of many conversations, numerous edits and lots of hard work, I also gained a friend.
To Dr. Kimberly Elford for taking the time to read the manuscript and for sharing her knowledge and expertise within the complex technical world of fertility treatments. And for her encouragement and feedback on the more intimate and emotional side of a couple trying to become pregnant. Her instant and committed willingness to help means more than she probably knows.
And thank you, also, to the others who so graciously gave up their time to make sure the details in this book are accurate: The Honourable Justice Harvey Brownstone, who guided me on separation and divorce law in Ontario; Kulsum Merchant and Franklin Mwango for helping to ensure the Swahili throughout this book is accurate; and Dr. Jane Aldridge for providing glimpses into the medical world that I wouldn’t have otherwise known.
To Negin Sairafi, who generously offered her time to take my photo, and who showcased her talent by ensuring I didn’t look eight months pregnant in the picture (I hope!). And to Laura DiPede, who has continually offered design suggestions and provided her skilled expertise on so many of the creative materials for this book.
I would also like to thank everyone else at ECW Press who helped turn my original manuscript into what it has become — Crissy Boylan, David Caron, Troy Cunningham, Jack David, Rachel Ironstone, Dave Gee, Jenna Illies, Emily Schultz and Steph VanderMeulen. It has been a true team effort.
As with everything in my life, the most essential influence on this project has been the love and support of my wonderful family, both extended and immediate, and, in particular:
My always kind and loyal mother, who, since I was a small child, told me I would be a writer of some sort — even through my years in business school and a long career in the corporate world. She absorbed every word of my elementary and high school essays with enthusiasm and commitment — and never, ever, stopped telling me that I needed to write.
My exceptionally intelligent and wonderful father, who took every opportunity to teach his children by asking us to count the number of cars on highway transport trucks or insisting on answering the “How long until we get there?!” road trip questions with a lesson in fractions. And, most of all, for instilling in me, through both his actions and continual encouragement, that genius is 1% inspiration and 99% perspiration — and that the greatest success happens when opportunity meets preparation.
My brothers, Ian and Steven, who played such a huge role in creating a childhood filled with adventure, constant support and, above all else, laughter. I’m so grateful that our solid ‘Clark Kid’ foundation has helped to ensure we have become even closer with every day that passes. You are not only brothers to me, but wonderful friends.
My amazing children, Avary, Jacob and Emerson, who, every single day, fill my life with unconditional love, absolute joy and complete perspective. And last, but certainly not least, my eternally supportive husband, Brian, who has taught me so much — and believes in me more than I could ever possibly believe in myself. He never doubted that I would finish this book, even when I did, and inspired me to keep going through his coach-like pep talks that I love so much and, moreover, a constant willingness to ensure I had all of the time I needed to write. Brian, you are my rock.