I announced my daughter Naima’s birth with a picture that I snapped just moments after she was handed to me in the delivery room. I didn’t notice it immediately, but it looked like she was holding up her middle finger (one of my friends asked if I had done this on purpose, which made me question what kind of person she thought I was). Now that I know my kid, this photo was completely on brand.
Right after I had Naima, I hit the ground running. I had to prove to the world that I could still do things besides mothering, even while mothering alone.
Professionally, I was flourishing. My popularity as a Twitter personality was growing, and I was booking news appearances and speaking engagements on a regular basis. I felt confident about the life I was building for my child and me.
Naima was born on a Friday night, and on Monday afternoon, I did a virtual appearance on a daily talk show. The host, who was a friend, was shocked that I showed up — literally nursing my baby the whole time. I didn’t want to miss out on any opportunities. I had called in to an editorial meeting from the hospital. I was not playing.
I only took six weeks of leave
When she was born, I could afford only six weeks of maternity leave, hardly enough time for a woman and her baby to bond. When it was time to return to work, I still had no childcare.
Amazingly enough, my boss told me I could discreetly bring Naima to the office while I searched for options. In other words, I couldn’t set up a whole nursery, but a little bouncer was fine. I never would have dreamed of asking for that kind of accommodation unless I had no other options, and I had zero.
Childcare was way harder to find — and afford — than I’d imagined. So, for my first three months back in the office at Ebony, Naima traveled with me on the train in her BabyBjörn and relaxed in her bouncer while I worked. My co-workers were incredibly kind, often coming by to hold her, and they never complained on the rare occasions that she got noisy.
When Naima was 4 months old, I was able to secure childcare, and she was no longer with me in the office. To this day, I am still stunned at how lucky I was to have that type of support at work. While it would have been nice to have more time at home with Naima, it meant the world to me that I was able to have her by my side as long as I did.
Courtesy of Jamilah Lemieux.
The kindness of others helped us along
As scary as single motherhood was, in many ways I felt like my daughter and I were living a charmed life.
When Naima was about 4 months old, I began searching for a new apartment. Anyone can tell you that apartment hunting in New York City is no small task, especially if you don’t have the biggest budget.
It seemed like we had looked at every vacant unit in BedStuy and Crown Heights when I put out a call for help on Facebook. A guy I knew casually connected me with a realtor, who quickly said she had the perfect landlord in mind. When I went to see the apartment with my daughter, the landlord immediately took to my daughter and offered to help with childcare while I worked. When she told me her rate was only $100 a week, I could have cried.
Naima brought happiness to my life that I couldn’t have imagined, and for years, things just went really well for us. When she was 2, we took an all-expenses-paid trip to Disney World through my job. When she was 4, I took her with me to the White House to meet the Obamas at one of their annual holiday parties for the media. The president literally picked my baby up and handed her to the First Lady.
Courtesy of Jamilah Lemieux.
Naima came to many of my speaking engagements and was with me when I won an award from Planned Parenthood for my writing. Together, we met famous folks like Gabrielle Union and Chadwick Boseman, who chased my little one around the Ebony office. Once, we traveled to Kansas City for me to do a panel with Twitter, and one of my happiest memories is eating barbecue chicken with Naima in our hotel bed. We were living!
Life felt good
I’d feared that becoming a single mom would ruin my life, but quite the opposite was happening. Things were good. Over time, I brought Naima around my friends more often, and she became an honorary member of our crew. I was flourishing personally and professionally: My profile as an editor at Ebony continued to rise, and for a while, I was a regular on MSNBC (now MS NOW), providing commentary about current events. I began getting booked for regular speaking engagements, and I would travel the country, appearing at colleges and conferences.
Naima has been a fixture at every job I’ve had since she was born. Her picture was in Ebony at least three times, including once with Harry Belafonte. After five years at the magazine, my boss left for a digital media company, and she took me with her. I was delighted to find that Naima was warmly welcomed by my new colleagues, and that people loved it when she came to visit.
Years later, I worked as a communications consultant on Cynthia Nixon’s campaign for governor of New York. Naima often joined me on the campaign trail and was embraced by Cynthia and her team.
I’m happy in a way I didn’t know was possible
I wish every working parent got to experience what I did for the first six years of Naima’s life. Still, it was sometimes difficult for me to cope with baby motherhood. I’d get sad seeing families with parents who were together, especially Black ones. It was often embarrassing for me to meet new people and explain, with such a young child, that my daughter’s father and I were not together. I convinced myself that my singleness was a temporary condition, that I would eventually meet a man who’d love us both, have another child , and have the family that I’d always wanted.
I may not have grown up dreaming of the life I’d come to have with Naima, but that hasn’t made it any less magical. My child is bright, loving, funny, and empathetic — she’s the best person I’ve ever known.
Raising her has made me happy in ways I didn’t know were possible, especially considering the circumstances. She’s always loved her daddy fiercely, but I am her person. I am Naima’s friend. We are the best of friends. The connection between us is like that of many single mothers of only daughters; at times, we fight like sisters and laugh like sisters. It may have taken a devastating heartbreak to get us to where we are, but knowing where this journey led us, I wouldn’t change a thing.
Excerpt adapted from “Black. Single. Mother.: Real Life Tales of Longing and Belonging” by Jamilah Lemieux. Copyright 2026, Lemieux Girls LLC. Published by Roc Lit 101.
