The fruitfulness of not fitting in

Growing up, I never felt like I fit in. I was shy, socially awkward and more than a little nerdy. Making and keeping friends was difficult. Through life, I felt like I had a “different” label slapped on me. I longed to belong somewhere, to just easily fit and blend and not stick out for once.

When I was a young adult, I hoped maybe getting married and having a “big Catholic family” myself would finally give me that place to belong. My husband and I discovered we were infertile instead.

Infertility comes with many sufferings, but one that often goes unspoken is the feeling of not fitting anywhere, especially in the Catholic world. After the young adult and marriage preparation groups, there often isn’t a place for married couples without children. It’s just assumed you will expand your family and join the moms’ group, or the parents’ group, or the family formation group. But where do you go when you don’t fit any of those groups?

Infertility is also such an invisible cross. While your heart is deeply open to the gift of life, there is no outward sign of that longing. Others often cannot see the grief you carry, leaving you feeling unseen and unsure of where you fit within the Body of Christ.

Yet we are never truly alone. Christ not only accompanies us, He also empathizes deeply with us. Crowds followed Him when His words were easy to hear, yet many walked away when His teachings became difficult. His closest friends frequently failed to understand Him, and in His final hours, nearly all of them fled. We do not have a God that is unable to sympathize with our pain (Hebrews 4:15). He knows our pain well. 

More importantly, He shows us that suffering is never the end of the story. Through His cross came resurrection: the greatest good in history came through what appeared to be utter loss. When we unite our suffering to Him, He can bring good fruit from ours as well.

Several years into our infertility journey, my husband and I felt called to take what we had experienced and help others by starting an infertility ministry at our church. We were surprised at the very outset of the ministry. When making announcements at church, SO many people came up to my husband and me to connect on how infertility had touched their lives, and how they felt comforted by knowing they weren’t alone. These people were the backbone of our church community. They were ministry leaders, volunteers and smiling faces I saw every Sunday, but had no idea what they had experienced. By embracing the cross of my infertility and seeking to serve others through it, God allowed others to be seen and find comfort. It brought me comfort, and showed me the various and impactful ways that others who experienced infertility bore beautiful fruit through their lives.

What had made me feel isolated became the very thing that connected me with others.

My time with that ministry eventually came to an end, but my life was forever changed by it. I gained lifelong friendships and mentors. It also was a step in my journey towards serving with the Fruitful Hollow, which has been incredibly fruitful in my own life and the lives of countless others.

I have realized that God has been teaching me something even bigger. I never needed to try to fit in. I always have a place with Him. The things that make me unique may be the very things that allow me to connect with and help others. By embracing who I am, I have found myself better able to authentically connect with others and build community naturally. I have also found that most people I have connected with don’t feel like they fit in either, one way or another. Everyone has a cross they are carrying and many feel alone in carrying their own. In His mysterious way, God makes us able to comfort and ease each other’s sufferings through our own, sometimes by just letting others know they are seen and not alone. 

Like St. Paul said, God “consoles us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to console those who are in any affliction with the consolation with which we ourselves are consoled by God.” (2 Corinthians 1:4). Even when we feel alone, Christ is present with us in our suffering and seeks to console us. We in turn are able to console others through the graces He has given us.

Infertility can make us think we lack fruit. Yet God provides us opportunities to be fruitful in ways we may not have imagined. Indeed, He can take the very place of our deep sorrow and hurt and transform it to become a fruitful place where others find hope and feel God’s love. 

If you are walking through infertility today, your feelings of pain and grief are valid. This road is lonely, painful, and often deeply misunderstood. But you do not walk it alone. Christ is with you as you carry your cross. He sees your sorrow, your pain and your suffering, and feels it with you. When we unite our sufferings to His, we allow Him to bring forth fruit from it as well. It may not always be the fruit we expected or imagined. But we know it will be good fruit that brings us and others closer to Him. 

Here are some questions to reflect or journal on:

1. Where have I experienced the feeling of not fitting in during my infertility journey? How can I bring that loneliness to Christ and unite it with Him?

2. Who has been a source of God's comfort in my suffering? How might God be calling me to share that same comfort with someone else?

3. In what ways might God be inviting me to see or bring forth fruitfulness in my life, even if it looks different from what I had hoped or planned?