I broke into a million pieces, and I can’t go back This is the truth infertility forces us to face: we can’t go back. We can’t return to who we were before the diagnosis, before the loss, before the treatments, before the years of waiting. That version of ourselves—the one who believed our bodies would cooperate, who thought motherhood was just a matter of timing, who hadn’t yet learned what it means to grieve something that never was—she’s gone. 

As you may have heard, our theme for 2026 at The Fruitful Hollow is “celebration”. To launch this series, we asked our team members to share what celebration means for them on an infertility journey. As always, their responses were colourfully varied and personal.  C.J. (Director) I was surprised at how many people in our leadership team were drawn to the idea of celebration as our theme for 2026! It forced me to look at how I viewed my life, and what meant the most to me. Wh

There was a time in my infertility journey when I would hold my breath every time I logged into my social media accounts. I dreaded the all too familiar way my heart would drop whenever a new pregnancy announcement popped into my feed. The reaction came quickly and sharply before I could filter it – a hard punch of pain, followed by a slowly building jealousy. Always, it was rounded out by shame – HOW could I feel such ugly feelings in light of new life? What is WRONG with me