April 2005. My legs were bent, my feet in stirrups. The hormones that urged the body forward in birthing had run their course. I was deep-bone tired when the voices came. “Just stop. No more pushing. You can’t anyways.” The other, “What kind of mother are you? Don’t you want this baby to live?” And I did. But my body was giving up, giving in. In the midst of quitting, I found it in me to push once more... then once more. Finally, they held him up. I saw him briefly, limp and blue, before he was swallowed up by people I didn’t know were in the room. There was nothing more I could do but pray. I cried, “Please, please, please,” oblivious to the comforting words of those around me. And, in the midst of my prayers I heard his infant wail.

August 2007. That little boy, the one we called “Blueberry” because of his three chins and the bruising he sustained while coming into this world, is jumping around the room. Jump. Jump. Jump. It’s been two years and I’m on a different journey now. I’m not fighting to bring a newborn into the world, but I am fighting to keep a magazine here.

Research from the U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics suggests that most business failures occur during the first two years. This is good news. We’ve made it through year two.

A lot of people have asked, “Why a magazine?” It’s a good question really. I’d never thought of starting a magazine. But, just a few weeks after my son was born, a friend approached me with the idea. At first, she asked if I would help with editing. Then, she asked if I would help with sales. Finally, she asked if I would be a partner. I said yes. I had just finished five years of working sixty to eighty hour weeks and I thought this would be a good hobby while I stayed home with my children.

Not surprisingly, it’s been much more than a hobby. It’s been a journey with many moments echoing the birth of my son. I’ve hit walls. I’ve seen mountains too big to climb. I’ve wanted to quit. But, I’ve found it in me to take one more step, to wait one more week for the right answer to show up. And, it always has.

The three of us (Carrie Matkin, Amy Beal Cook, and me) had never been involved in publishing. We read some books, took a class, and went to work. We operated under the policy of “fake it until you make it.” It worked. Just five months after we talked about starting a magazine, the premier issue showed up on my doorstep.

It really was Christmas at its best. I couldn’t believe that I had been a part of creating something so amazing. We were all proud of it. I took my daughter, who was seven at the time, with me to deliver that first issue and she bragged, “This is my mom’s magazine. She’s the editor.” From time to time, readers still run into that first issue and contact us to let us know how it captured them. It was the first proof that this magazine has a life of its own.

Yes, I’m directing. And, there are other incredible women and men working to make it happen. But, it attracts people. They contact us with their stories and with the stories of their mothers, sisters, and friends. And, as we tell their stories, the magazine comes to life.

Our goal is to bring women together, to help create a community of women who support and inspire each other. And, it’s happening. I’ve had so many women tell me how something they’ve read in the magazine has changed their life … how they now have the courage to start a new business, or go to school, or reach out to a neighbor. I hear about how their businesses have grown and how they finally see that they are worth it, that they can accomplish anything they set their mind and heart to. That’s really what this is all about. It’s the opportunity to change women’s lives that makes me take the next step; that makes me quiet the fear long enough to see the next turn in the road.

But there has been fear. Crippling fear. It came when Carrie decided to leave the business. It came when there wasn’t enough money and I had to go back to work. It came when my only sales person walked away on a whim, leaving us at a time when unemployment was nearly extinct. It came most recently when I realized that I could no longer personally fund this venture and that we were still two issues away from breaking even. And, each time I hear the voices, “You’re such a fool. Who told you that you were good enough to pull off something like this? Why would you think you could succeed? You’ve destroyed your children’s future.”

Starting a business is risky and scary. Ask anyone who has done it. But the vistas on the journey are breathtaking. And, I’ve had my share of those as well; runners crossing the finish line of our annual women-only 5K, looking out at a packed room as we honored Luz Perez as Utah’s first Wasatch Woman of the Year, and, recently, sitting in the Governor’s Mansion listening to Mary Kaye Huntsman, Gail Miller, and D. Wright speak graciously of the magazine and its worth to our community. There have been the quieter moments as well; the days when a new issue arrives at my doorstep, the last-minute advertisement that comes in just in time, and the moments in prayer when I realize that the answers will show up if I only wait long enough.

That is the greatest truth in accomplishing any dream. I’ve seen it over and over. Sometimes it seems that there aren’t answers, that the way is dark and closed. But, if you keep going, push one more time, take one more step and quiet your soul, the door opens and the answer appears.