I was supposed to launch in March 2020. I spent my parental leave building a website, planning marketing materials and creating a business plan. I wanted to offer to the community what I couldn’t find while I was in the throws of postpartum anxiety and depression. Leaving my baby at home so I could get help? Not a chance. I already felt like a bad parent. How could I leave him for upwards of 2 hours so I could go cry about how bad I felt? The waitlists were too long, the support not specialized.
As we all know, March 2020 didn’t go as planned for most of the world. When I called my boss to resign, she actually told me to hold off and “see what this whole COVID thing is about”. “Sure”, I said, feeling that tug low in my gut and the doubt creep in. Maybe this is a bad idea.
Friends and family questioned my choices, “Are you sure it’s a good idea to turn away so many potential clients by only working with prenatal and postpartum families?” More doubt, more of that tug of uncertainty. But this was it. I wasn’t going to risk a stable paycheck and years of working in a team of wonderful, supportive colleagues if it wasn’t for the right reason.
A couple of weeks later, I did yet another check for business names. It was a gut punch. Another therapist had launched a local business with a VERY similar name. Again, the tug and doubt, but this time it was overwhelming. Weeks of website building and hundreds of dollars in marketing materials, no longer usable. The name had come to me while grieving a miscarriage, how could I move away from it? How would I find another one as perfect?
That night, as I cried on the couch, my husband went into problem solving mode. He began listing off dozens of alternative names. “A name isn’t that important,” he said. But it was to me and NONE of them were good enough.
As I held my 15 month old in a dark room for yet another late night, lonely feeding – I saw it. The video monitor switched between each of my kid’s rooms with a flashing green light. On. Off. On. Off. It was a reminder that there was a whole world outside of the dark room where I had spent years alone, feeding my kids. Hushing them. Trying desperately to get them to go back to sleep. Where I wept on the floor, unsure if I could do another day. In the darkness, where I would often hold them a little longer and tighter once they were asleep, because tomorrow they would wake up a day older and I wasn’t ready to let to go their littleness yet.
The green light kept going – on, off, on, off.
The light was steady, calming and constant.
Firefly Counselling was born.
Just like parenting, owning a business has not been what I expected but 5 years later and I wouldn’t give up one minute of it. I’m so glad I didn’t give into the voice of doubt.

