I’m just going to come outright and say it; Lent is not my favorite liturgical season. I shared with a friend recently that I honestly feel as if I’ve been living in a “perpetual Lent”. Thinking about adding Lenten fasting, abstinence, penance, and altering my diet feels like more weight than my level of overwhelm can bear. I’m sure this seems like a strange blog to read on The Fruitful Hollow, but I figured some of you may relate.

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. 

If you’re like me in any way, you thrive on connection. That sense of belonging, of sharing the inside joke or seeing someone’s eyes light up when they see you, the hum of energy in a crowd or the chuckle to yourself at reading a loved one’s silly text. The community to support you when all else around you doesn’t make sense. Even the most introverted person needs connection, though it could look differently than an extrovert like me. Even if your village is small, it is stil