Choosing Rose: A Children’s Book About Love, Family, and the Courage to Ask Big Questions

 Not all families look the same and that’s what makes them beautiful.

This warm and empowering picture book helps children of Single Moms by Choice feel proud, confident, and deeply loved.

Through gentle language and heartfelt storytelling, it creates space for connection, conversation, and celebrating the unique ways families are formed.

Written by a Single Mom by Choice, inspired by real conversations with her daughter.

Written by : Beth Sadowsky

Why I wrote Choosing Rose

I wrote this book in 2019 when 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, I chose her name while I was at the beach…Lily…my favorite flower and wrote it in the sand. The seeds of a story quickly followed. 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 made the decision to always be open with her about our journey, sharing it in ways that she could understand as she grew.

I struggled a lot more with the idea of explaining things to other people than Lily ever has. I believe she can talk freely because I have stayed focused on being present with her and having open, honest conversations whenever the opportunities arose. For me, it was not easy because 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 get to a place where I could confidently talk about our family to 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 the way they see the world with so much 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 started talking about her daddy. I froze. I thought, “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. She was also talking about a brother and sister she did not have.

So, I grabbed the story I had written for her. It was not finished yet, just words on a page with no pictures, but I read it to her anyway. She did not 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. I realized at that moment that Lily was doing well. She was happy, confident, and well adjusted. I was the one who had to overcome the most. But that did not mean there would not 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 acknowledgement, 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 ready 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 me growing 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.