I quit my high-paying finance job to start a bakery. I wanted more time with my kids.

• Carrie Morey worked in investment banking sales but realized she didn't have a passion for it.
• She became a stay-at-home mom and developed a side hustle making Southern-style biscuits.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Carrie Morey. It has been edited for length and clarity.

In 2004, my mind wandered while sitting in a sales meeting as part of my finance job.

I couldn't focus on the conversation and realized I had little passion for what I did for a living. I earned a good salary and worked with my father, an investment banker, but I wasn't fully present.

I'd moved back to my home city of Charleston, South Carolina, around three years earlier, having worked long, hard days in New York. I'd arrive in the office at night and leave at night.

While I cherished that time because I had freedom, I also learned that I didn't want to do that for the rest of my life. Most people who live in New York know that, at some point, you've got to get out because it's just too intense.

Still, I could feel the same stress creeping into my job in the South.

My pregnancy with my first daughter, Caroline, now 20, triggered the decision to step off the treadmill. I left work to be a stay-at-home mom. My husband, John, who does market research for cultural attractions, and I knew we were lucky to be able to make that choice.

Having a child — especially your first — is a staggering change in one's life. You go through so many different emotions. But, once I came out on the other side about six months later, I didn't feel quite as fulfilled as I'd hoped.

I loved being a mom, but I figured I could strike the right balance by taking on something else.

I'd always been interested in the food industry, but I could not commit to opening a restaurant or anything like that. It needed to be something I could easily combine with my domestic situation.

Fortunately, Caroline followed routines and had regular naps. I used those times to formulate a business plan to make and sell traditional, high-end Southern-style biscuits.

Making biscuits from scratch was a dying art

My mother and grandmothers were always in the kitchen when I was a child. They always looked for an excuse to invite people over for a party. One of their most popular dishes was biscuits. I persuaded my mom to hand over her mother's recipe to me.

People didn't make biscuits anymore, and it was a dying art. "We're going to make them by hand and sell them online," I told my family. Internet selling wasn't much of a thing back then, and Mom said it was the worst idea she'd heard.

Nonetheless, she agreed to help me rent a kitchen from a nearby caterer to try the idea. There's no mixer. It's all done by hand, using feel, touch, and the way the dough looks rather than strict measurements.

The recipe can vary daily, depending on the weather and humidity and lack thereof. A good biscuit maker is OK with not following exact instructions — it's really the antithesis of most baking. But the end result is really great when you understand how the texture of the dough should be and work quickly.

We rented the kitchen space once a month and spent a 12-hour shift making the luxury biscuits, stockpiling them, and freezing them until they sold.

I went on to have my daughters, Cate and Sarah, now 17 and 16. Like their older sister, they adhered to schedules. I'd wake up before they woke up, exercise, and do some work before spending the mornings with them.

They'd take two to three-hour naps every day. It was the perfect balance. The bakery started very slowly. It wasn't an overnight success. I had to keep reminding myself, "Why did I start this business?" It was to enjoy this lifestyle and be present with my girls, who would often get involved and join in with the baking for fun.

I wasn't in any rush to grow and scale the business. I was trying to have a comfortable side hustle that would keep me busy, keep my mind engaged, and keep me passionate. But my No. 1 job was to be a mom.

Later, I opened a grab-and-go eatery where people could stop for coffee, hot tea, and a biscuit. "If I'm the only employee working in the store, it's not going to open before 8 a.m. or close after 2 p.m.," I told John. We didn't open on weekends for a long while.

I'd drop my daughters at school at 7:30 a.m. and pick them up by 3 p.m. to take them places, help them with their homework, and cook supper.

The temptation in the US is to build a business fast — but I did it slowly

These days, we have two brick-and-mortar shops where Caroline, Cate, and Sarah often work weekends and over school or college breaks. We supply Callie's Hot Little Biscuit products to big retailers like Whole Foods and Costco. I employ a staff of 40.

As for me, I still leave our production facility every day around 2 p.m. so that I can be home for our kids. This is a super important pillar that I try to live by.

At 52, I'm proud to have a business that is 20 years old while not missing out on raising our children. It goes to show that you can do everything that you want to do, and there is no timeline.

There's immense pressure in America to go fast, fast, fast, bigger, bigger, bigger. We all want to be uber-successful, but we must consider how we truly want to live.

Who cares how many hours you've worked and how successful you've been? If you miss out on moments with your family, life is passing you by.

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