Why I Wrote the Children's Book-With You, I Am Always

With You, I Am Always, is my debut children’s book about love and connection through distance, written for my family and all military families in mind. This book has been a work in progress for the last three years. Not just on paper, but in my heart.

It was written slowly through lived experience, scattered thoughts, quiet moments, and the emotional journey of learning what it meant to become both a military wife and a new mum again after seven years.

I met my now husband during COVID.

We both came into the relationship with our own little families already built, and during those first two years, life felt slower. We spent so much time together, blending our families and building a home we loved.

In 2022, we got married.

Two months later, we welcomed our little boy, making us a family of seven.

Then six months later, for the first time in our relationship, my husband left for four months.

And honestly… it was one of the hardest seasons of my life.

I was learning how to navigate solo parenting with a baby again, the logistics and emotions of blended family life, and the realities of military life all at once.

There were moments I felt overwhelmed.

Lonely.

Resentful.

Feeling stuck at home while the world around me kept moving.

It was such a different life to the one we had when he was home.

During that time, I leaned heavily on Open Arms and slowly started creating little reminders for myself - gentle thoughts that helped me re-frame the distance and hold onto connection instead of sadness.

Those reminders eventually became the foundation of this book. At the time, I never intended for them to become a children’s story but here we are somewhere along the way, those thoughts turned into pages, and those pages turned into something I now want to share with other families who understand what it means to love someone through distance.

This book is for the children who miss someone deeply.

But honestly… it’s also for the mums.

The partners.

The spouses.

The people at home trying to hold everything together while still carrying their own emotions quietly in the background.

It’s a reminder to be gentle with yourself.

A reminder that love and connection do not disappear simply because someone is away.

Sometimes they just show up differently, and over time, I also realised something important:

This life isn’t only hard for us at home.

It’s hard for them too. And I remember the moment that it clicked for me.

My husband loves his work and is incredibly proud of what he does, but he loves his family even more, and that became more obvious to me in the small ways he continued to show up for us, no matter where he was.

With each and every course, exercise and deployment we learnt how to intentionally create connection through distance.

And those little moments changed everything for us.

We plan birthdays, anniversaries and important milestones together well in advance so he can still be part of the process. Gifts are chosen together, cards are written ahead of time, and messages are prepared so the children still feel his presence on important days.

He sends flowers while he’s away and not even pre-organised ones (apparently he likes the challenge), but flowers he somehow manages to arrange from wherever he is, always with heartfelt little notes attached.

He hides treats around the house for the children before leaving.

Sometimes he creates scavenger hunts for me to follow after he’s gone.

We all sleep in his shirts while he’s away.

For our anniversary each year, he carves me a small wooden heart by hand, one by one they all seem to find a way home, and now one stays tucked under my pillow, close enough to reach for during the quiet nights.

My husband once sent a goodnight message, one that still brings me peace while he is away, "you and me, we sleep under the same stars" and to this day while he is away I will often take a step outside and look up at the night sky knowing that its something we share.

But one of my favourite traditions became the music.

Without warning, songs would suddenly start playing through our Google speaker during dinner.

Sometimes they were songs from our wedding.

Sometimes songs connected to memories.

Sometimes songs that simply reflected how he was feeling.

We couldn’t hear his voice, but somehow the music still made his presence fill the room.

It became a new kind of connection. A sensory reminder that he was still with us, even from far away.

We leave notes in each other’s books.

Letters hidden between pages waiting to be found.

And while it can be easier for us to create connection at home, we also try hard to make sure he feels connected while he’s away too.

For birthdays, Father’s Day, anniversaries and milestones, we pack little surprises into his bag before he leaves.

Small gifts.

Letters from the kids.

Photos.

Love notes tucked into books.

Simple reminders that he is loved, missed and still deeply part of our everyday life.

Over time, the resentment softened.

The sadness became easier to carry.

Not because the distance stopped being hard, but because we learnt how to hold onto connection while living through it.

I stopped putting life on pause.

I allowed myself to continue creating joy while he was away instead of only waiting for him to come home.

And that changed everything.

With You, I Am Always is made up of all of those gentle reminders.

The flowers.

The songs.

The letters.

The stars.

The quiet ways love continues to show up through distance.

All woven together into a story for children and families to hold onto when someone they love is far away.

A reminder that love still lives in our hearts.

So no matter how far apart we are…

with you, I am always.