BLOG

In honor of Infertility Awareness Week, Adrieanna Kucher shares her story of fertility struggles, including multiple miscarriages and the emotional challenges she faced. After a traumatic loss in March 2025, she sought counselling and found support through the Butterfly Run. Living with PCOS has added its own difficulties, but she continues to hold onto hope. Her message is one of solidarity for others on a similar journey, reminding them that their grief, feelings, and hope

Infertility is often invisible, but its impact is anything but. In this honest reflection, Hilary Walton shares the emotional, physical, and financial toll of trying to conceive—and the quiet strength it takes to keep going. A powerful reminder that behind everyday faces are stories of loss, resilience, and the need for support.

After experiencing multiple miscarriages and the end of a relationship, Kim embarked on a fertility journey filled with challenges, heartbreak, and unexpected discoveries. Through treatments, personal growth, and the support of the Butterfly Run community, Kim found strength in connection and hope for the future. This blog shares Kim's story of resilience, the lessons learned along the way, and my unwavering desire to become a mother, despite the obstacles faced.

After years of infertility treatments, Kirsten Sherlock and her husband chose to stop trying to conceive. She shares the grief of unexpected childlessness and the journey toward healing through therapy, community, and self-compassion. Now a counsellor, she supports others facing similar loss and offers a compassionate space to find meaning and joy beyond parenthood.

After losing her daughter Scarlett moments before birth, Lynn Farrales describes how grief shifted from an abstract idea to a full-body, life-altering experience. The loss shattered her identity and reshaped how she holds joy, sorrow, relationships, and healing. Through rituals, symbols like snowdrops, and rejecting forced positivity, she honours grief as an essential part of being wholly human.

My sweet Sylas 🤍, 2026 is here, and I’m not ready. I’m not ready to leave you in 2025. You came into 2024 and we welcomed 2025 together. We took this picture right at midnight. You stayed with us into mid January, long enough to wrap our hearts in your love. And now the thought of stepping into a year that doesn’t have you in it feels unbearable. It feels wrong. It feels scary. It feels empty. I don’t want to let go of you. I don’t think I ever will. I love seeing your name

After losing her son Marshall, Alanna Knobben learned that healing after child loss comes through connection, remembrance, and redefinition. Connecting with others brings understanding and hope, remembrance keeps loved ones present in our lives, and redefinition allows us to rebuild, honoring both love and loss as we learn to live forward.

I have been a student of grief for over 50 years. On a personal level, it began at my mother’s death when I was 21 years old, with...

Dearest James ~ When I found out I was pregnant with you - I just could not stop smiling. I shared the news with a confidante and she...

*this story was generously shared by Brooke who joined the Butterfly Run Committee after experiencing the loss of her baby. My dating...

*This blog post is written by Butterfly Run Committee member Emily Cordonier. She initially wrote it for her own blog, one year after...

This man right here, is a parent, a dad - whose son died. Our experience with grief has been different, but it's still grief. He did not...

To my child on his birthday. It's been 5 years since you were born. Not a day goes by that I don't think about you. Today, a blue jay...