How A Neonatal Nurse Took a Big Risk for the Kids...and Everybody Won
By Mike Foley
Little Justin Roth was born at 24 weeks. Severely premature, Justin's care will include round-the-clock monitoring in a neonatal intensive care unit with powerful lighting, a covered incubator, decreased noise and special positioning. But even with those precautions, the baby's chances aren't good--only about 60 percent of such children will survive and live a normal life. One of 400,000 premature infants born each year in the U.S., Justin also faces potential brain, lung and visual problems, as well as possible mental retardation and other long-term disabilities.
Watching infants fight for life is nothing new to Sharon Rogone. A neonatal nurse for more than 20 years, Sharon has assisted premature infants in their critical first hours of life, observing the successes and failures, while creating new methods for improving the odds. As a nurse, she knows first-hand the plight of the premature infant. For Sharon, the emotional roller coaster ranges from joy when a child survives to heartbreak and tears when they do not.
But her interest runs even deeper. Frustrated by a lack of quality neonatal care products, Sharon has developed her own line of devices focused on helping infants and nurses, while increasing cost-effective care for hospitals. Her company, Small Beginnings, now features 18 innovative infant care products developed by Sharon, her staff of healthcare professionals and other independent nurses.
"Nurses have great ideas," she says. "They really do. But they're also easy marks for those who would dupe them and steal the product. I'm hoping my experience can help."
What's this? A company CEO actually helping others with new ideas?
That's what you get with Sharon Rogone, an attractive, 50-ish blonde whose smile brims with compassion and experience. And with a game plan that never veers far from her ongoing goal of helping infants and nurses, Sharon is anything but your typical CEO. She is, in fact, eager to share her story with others, hoping to make a difference in an infant's struggle for life and an entrepreneur's struggle with new products.
Since 1990, Sharon has done both remarkably well.
Although Sharon found satisfaction in her job as a neonatal nurse in southern California, her frustration began growing in the late 1980s. Problems with the high-intensity lighting used to treat jaundice kept nursing staffs overworked, constantly attending babies in order to keep their eyes covered and undamaged.
"It was difficult to keep any kind of eye cover attached for very long," she explains. "And we tried everything."
In an attempt to find a solution, nurses often used cotton balls or dark construction paper, usually secured with makeshift netting or some sort of adhesive. Such devices either wouldn't stay put when the child moved or, worse yet, irritated an infant's fragile skin.
"Nothing really worked that well," says Sharon. "I just knew there had to be a better way."
Experimenting with a variety of designs, she developed a nylon head cover that shielded the infant's eyes and remained secure when the baby moved. Calling it the Bili-Bonnet (a reference to the bilirubin lights used in premature infant care), she began experimenting with her prototype on the job, drawing instant praise from fellow nurses. Sharon knew she was on to something and, like other product developers, envisioned a successful road ahead.
But it wouldn't be that easy.
Several medical supply companies were less than enthusiastic about the product. Others offered to manufacture the Bili-Bonnet, but only if Sharon gave up all rights to the product. Still others offered her an extremely small percentage of the net profit--less than one-quarter of one percent. Unwilling to give the product away, Sharon was stuck, suddenly wary of the marketplace and unsure about her next move.
"I had something that helped the babies and made a nurse's job easier," she says, shaking her head. "But it was starting to look hopeless. I just didn't think it was going to work out."
It might have remained that way, if not for a 1990 conversation with Austin Webber II, a medical sales rep whom Sharon had met on the job. Webber, an amiable and energetic man, had also grown disillusioned with the medical supply industry, and listened to Sharon's plight one day over coffee.
"He encouraged me to start my own business," she says, laughing. "But I just wanted the product on the market and available to nurses. I didn't want to become a manufacturer."
But Webber persisted and Sharon promised to give it a try only if he would join her as a full partner. At that moment, one of the most important businesses for premature infant care was born.
Webber's connection with the Los Angeles garment industry served the company well in locating materials and after Sharon and Webber each kicked in $1,500 to fund the startup, they soon had enough samples to begin making their presence known. Dubbing the business Small Beginnings, the pair started sending product samples to hospitals and hitting the nursing/medical trade show circuit. With no cash available to rent a booth, Webber would often sneak into the shows, handing out samples of the Bili-Bonnet until someone would catch on.
"I got kicked out more than once," he says with a smile. "But sometimes I could get around it. Once I offered them all the cash in my pocket--around $200--and they let me stay."
Meanwhile, Sharon would find nurse friends who were set to attend neonatal conferences and send samples with them. She also began the protection process, writing the patent application herself and doing a patent search with the help of an attorney friend.
"I really struggled with the verbiage on the application," she says. "And I had it rejected so often, the patent examiner actually got to know me."
But she incorporated a number of suggestions from attorneys and the patent office, finally landing a patent for around $1200, far less than a patent attorney would have charged her. Even with a patent, however, the company grew slowly, despite the efforts of Sharon, Webber and Sharon's husband, Phil, whom she married in 1995. Phil, a Physician Assistant/Respiratory Technician, was enthusiastic about Small Beginnings, often helping Sharon stuff envelopes with product samples and invoices. But Phil would soon take a more important role in the company.
When the company began developing more of Sharon's ideas and expanded its product line in 1996, the team was finally able to legitimately attend the large trade shows so important to a growing business. As the initial show approached, a neonatal nursing conference at Anaheim's Disneyland Hotel, Sharon grew increasingly nervous and worried that the products would ultimately be rejected by the nursing community.
Although he did not believe that himself, Phil suggested that Sharon stay away from the booth on the show's first day. An instantly-likeable and outgoing man, Phil had an extensive knowledge of the Small Beginnings product line and worked the booth like a carnival barker. The crowd at the booth was soon five deep and Phil was forced to pass samples and information packets over heads to ensure that no one went away empty-handed.
"We basically created a frenzy," he says, smiling. "And we made sure that all nurses had a sample to take back to their hospitals."
Observing the booth from a distance, Sharon watched the events with tears in her eyes.
Small Beginnings was finally making a buzz.
In late 1998, Ken Croteau, a neonatal respiratory tech with an expertise in business and computers, joined the team at Phil's request. Croteau, who combines business savvy with a youthful enthusiasm, immediately developed the company's computer network and established its website presence (www.small-beginnings.com). In addition, Croteau assisted Phil in recruiting distributors for the Small Beginnings product line. The company now has an extensive distribution network throughout the U.S. and in Canada.
Several months later, Small Beginnings finally moved its operation from the Rogone home to a 1,000-square-foot warehouse, a building it outgrew six months later. The company's current office/warehouse in Hesperia, California allows elbow room for staff members and plenty of inventory storage space. Comfortable in the new location, Small Beginnings has now grown its product catalog to include 18 products. Although most have been developed in-house, others have come from the minds and hearts of nurses and health-care professionals who have come to Sharon with their ideas.
"We know what it's like to struggle with a product," says Sharon. "And we like to help. Even if we don't take a product into our line, we can suggest low-cost alternatives that will fit a small budget."
Sharon and company are no strangers to budget concerns. In Small Beginnings' 10-year history, she has never been able to secure a bank or SBA business loan.
"That was frustrating," she admits. "But I said, 'Fine--if they won't loan me the money, I'll just do it all myself.'"
And the Small Beginnings team remains proud that the company has always been profitable, growing steadily since its inception (more than 300 percent in the first quarter of 2000). Phil credits much of that to the team members' dedication and long hours, but feels the company's focus has been important, as well.
"We only deal in products that improve care for the infant, make life easier for nurses, and are cost effective for hospitals," he explains. "That's a winning combination. So we've had consistent sales and consistent gratitude."
Sharon says she is still awed by Small Beginnings' growth into a premiere provider of neonatal medical products.
"It all started with one idea," she says. "That's what I like to tell people. Don't be afraid to go after your dream. I didn't start this business until I was in my 40s. Age just isn't a factor if you really want something."
Hospitals, and especially children's wards, can be lonely places during the holiday season. Patients who are ill or injured miss the holidays and often feel forgotten, despite visits from family and friends.
But for hospitals in southern California, things are different. A lot different.
Enter Santa (Phil) and his elves (Sharon and staff), who close up shop each Christmas Eve and spend the entire day visiting children in hospitals throughout the area. Each child receives holiday greetings, a small stuffed toy, and the joy of connecting with a holiday they might otherwise have missed. Staff members contribute to the cost of the visits and the smiles they receive are all the profit they want. Sharon and crew connect with each life, from the smallest child to the largest teen....and they make a difference.
Your typical CEO? Not at all. But then, Small Beginnings isn't your typical company.
"We haven't forgotten why we started this," Sharon says. "We're in it for the kids. And we're having a great time."
Those interested in contacting Small Beginnings may call 1-800-676-0462.
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