As three mothers, this ideology was the first we hinged on—it was the corner stone of Whole World Baby, and although perhaps it has slowed our productivity and certainly hindered our focus, it marks the only kind of company of which I could be a part.  I’m a mother, first and foremost, and my first priority is keeping my family strong and healthy—because without that, who cares how much money you make or how productive you are?

And in a bigger picture, this “Family First” motto also lends itself quite obviously to our business model as a whole:  Giving back to the children of the world and taking care of our Mother Earth, our world, in the process.  The three of us feel a pull and obligation to put family (even if not our own) first in our business mission—by donating 25% of our profits directly to organizations around the world that foster, feed, protect, and educate children.   And we also put our family first by our commitment to be as green and eco-friendly as humanly possible, because our planet is the home to our global family.

I like to imagine what the world would be like if every company hummed to our motto—but then I realize that I just want my cell phone to function, just want my stove to work when I turn on the gas, just want my car to be reliable. Maybe “Family First,” in the sense of making family a priority over production, doesn’t need to be the motto for every company.

It’s so hard sometimes to just listen. I so much want to share with them what decision I would make and all the reasons etc. Then however I remember, just as I watch new moms hover over their first new baby wanting to protect them from every tiny pain they might encounter, pricking their finger on a rose, falling from a single step or preventing them from a bump if they trip, all these little “mistakes” are really just natural lessons.

Pain is a lesson in all its degrees, it’s not bad, it is simply a lesson of what doesn’t work. We can, at times overprotect too much so our children learn the lesson in some other way, we may also be teaching them not to trust your warnings if the consequence doesn’t happen. Through this lesson of wanting to be the “knowing experienced mom”, I suddenly realized that what I was judging as the “awful critics in my head”, shaming and criticizing me, causing me deep pain at times, really was the same voice.  I was once told that within the sadness lies the answer. Through the compassion for our critic and the understanding of the underlining message it speaks, we grow.

I’m not suggesting you allow your child to fall down a set of stairs, or allow them to put their hand in fire, nor am I suggesting we allow our critics to overwork us into paralyzing depression. It seems to be all a careful balance. Whether we are one or fifty, we all learn from mistakes, our sadness and confusions. So as I watch, I remind myself, my partners aren’t going to harm their babies with any decision they make about whether they choose to eat organic or not, whether they breastfeed for a year or two or even harder decisions like whether to vaccinate or watch your baby suffer through childhood diseases.

All our lessons, be it thru pain or joy, create our diverse and beautiful selves, and I smile with a reminder, we are all doing the best we can.

My two partners, a Broadway actress and an Architect for the Los Angeles County Sheriff’s Department have led adventurous lives. None of us had ever started a business before and we each had our reasons to try now. Those reasons ranged from leaving a legacy for our daughters, paying our bills doing something we loved, to making a difference in the world while sharing this unique fashion accessory that had people stopping us on every street corner to admire. Our startup business was slow but our patience was endless. Diapers, nursing, runny noses and noisy children seemed to halt our every effort but there is no tenacity and reserve of energy in the world like those of a mother. There was a silent agreement between the three of us, family first, which kept us from blowing up each time we missed a deadline or forgot a conference call. It contrasted sharply with my work with women who were not mothers. Not better or worse just different. There was a softness that had long been missing in my life after years of hard driving and ambitious living to become something worthwhile.

It struck me one day in the midst of trying to juggle motherhood and business that many women had paid a high price for my chance to participate in that struggle. I thought of the women in the 1950’s and 60’s who mothered a generation day in and day out with absolutely no choice of any other life. It was their “duty” to bake pies, mend hems and serve dinners while many a life’s dream to dance, travel or run a business quietly disappeared into the night. Then I thought of the women in my mother’s generation, many of whom were single mothers in the divorce boom of the 70’s and 80’s who wanted nothing more than to be home with their babies but had to work the early shift, late shift or pull a double. I thought of the women on the forefront of the women’s lib movement who fought the hard and won the battle so my partners and I could make the choices we were making today.  One generation had to sacrifice their dreams of a life outside the home while the next often had to sacrifice their dreams of life within the home.

Now, every time I sit down for a Whole World Baby meeting with my babe at breast while my one partner’s babe is gleefully hanging off the banister for the 3^rd time and my other partner is juggling her full time job and phone calls from 3 teenage daughters, I smile. I smile in spite of the chaos because I recognize that I am becoming one of the women who is paving the way for our daughters choices. I am consciously parenting my daughter and serving dinners (although I have yet to bake a pie or mend a hem) and not one ounce of resentment or a sense lost dreams runs through my veins. I am creating a business from the ground up with two strong, opinionated and passionate women and loving every minute of it while still being there for my daughter’s first steps, first words and first days. There are still days when I feel lost and overwhelmed but those days are eased with the knowledge that it is possible to have both realized dreams and fulfilled daughters. On those days I feel the millions of mothers who came before me cheering me on somewhere in the distance and I feel grateful.     

Stacey Martino