Choosing Rose: A Children’s Book About Love, Family, and Being Raised by a Single Mom by Choice

Why I wrote Choosing Rose

I wrote this children’s picture book in 2019 while I was pregnant with my daughter, Lily. I vividly remember wanting a way to connect with my soon-to-be-born baby. I called her “my little seed” throughout the pregnancy, and then, while at the beach, I chose her name Lily, my favorite flower and wrote it in the sand. This moment sparked the seeds of a story that would eventually become Choosing Rose. I still have the journal in which I wrote the first draft of our story. From the moment I chose to be a Single Mom by Choice, I decided to always be open with her about our journey, sharing it in ways she could understand as she grew.

I struggled much more with explaining things to others than Lily ever has. I believe she can talk freely because I have focused on being present with her and having open, honest conversations whenever the opportunities arose. For me, it wasn’t easy, as I had all these beliefs drilled into me about how a family "should" look. It took a lot of work to overcome those beliefs and reach a place where I could confidently discuss our family with others.

Lily, on the other hand, didn’t have any of those beliefs holding her back. She is a child, and one of the most beautiful things about children is how they see the world with wonder and acceptance. If we let them, they can teach us so much. Adults often think, “What do they know? They’re just kids.” But honestly, children are some of the wisest people I’ve ever met. They don’t carry the same baggage we do, and they see the world as raw, magical, and full of possibilities.

That is why I have always felt it was important to have open and heartfelt conversations with Lily from a young age, before the world tried to tell her how families "should" look. Our conversations started when she was around two years old. I will never forget one day when she came home from preschool and began talking about her daddy. I froze, thinking, “Oh no, this is going to lead to years of therapy.” But after a couple of deep breaths, I realized she was just repeating things she had heard at school, also mentioning a brother and sister she did not have.

So, I grabbed the story I had written for her. It wasn’t finished yet—just words on a page with no pictures—but I read it to her anyway. She didn’t get everything, but she understood enough to set the stage for future conversations and to give me the confidence to keep talking openly about it.

From that initial encounter when she was two, I made it a point to normalize our story. Our family was just as wonderful as others. At that moment, I realized that Lily was doing well. She was happy, confident, and well-adjusted. I was the one who had to overcome the most. But that didn’t mean there wouldn’t be more trying moments ahead.

For example, when Lily’s school held a “Donuts with Dad” event, I had all kinds of feelings about it. I worried about what people would think and how Lily would feel. But then I remembered that the most important thing was to support her and meet her where she was. I asked if she wanted me to go, and she was so excited. She knew it was meant for dads, but she wanted me there. She has always loved having me at school.

When we got there, I was the only mom in a sea of dads. I could feel the anxiety creeping in, but I reminded myself this was not about me. It was about Lily. We ended up sitting with one of her classmates and her dad, and out of nowhere, Lily said, “I wish I had a daddy!” For a moment, time stopped. Then I scanned the table for reactions, took a breath, and responded, “Yes, Lily, and you also wish you had a dog, a brother, and a sister!” She laughed, nodded, and went back to coloring. That was a moment for acknowledgment, but not a deep talk. I could tell she just wanted to have fun.

I have learned that being present in these conversations is key. Sometimes, I am so ready to dive deep when she mentions something, but she might not be prepared for that or even know what she is asking. So now, I lean into those moments slowly, asking her a few questions to understand where she is coming from. Is she really struggling, or is she just casually wishing for a daddy the way she might wish for a puppy?

This journey has been as much about my growth and learning as it has been about raising her. By staying open and letting the conversations flow naturally, I am doing my best to help Lily feel confident and loved in the family we have built together.