From Pain to purpose: How one Philadelphia woman built a lifeline for women facing infertility

When reproductive challenges leave parents across the Philadelphia region searching for support, many turn to Diona Murray, founder of Barren Fruit, a nonprofit connecting them with care, resources and renewed hope.

“I help women that suffer with reproductive health challenges and infertility,” Murray said. “Help give them resources. Help give them hope.”

Her work is gentle yet powerful — rooted in faith, lived experience and a deep desire to ensure that no woman feels alone during some of life’s hardest moments.

Theresa Spencer met Murray at a West Philly church years ago and was struck by her calm and commitment.

“I have my own personal journey with infertility,” Spencer said, having undergone a partial hysterectomy after doctors said her fibroids had grown to the size of a grapefruit.

“The first person I thought of was Diona,” she said.

Murray prayed with her and supported her, even showing up to Spencer’s home after the surgery with a plant that still thrives on her windowsill.

“I never felt like I was by myself,” Spencer said, who nominated Murray for the Good Souls Project. “She’s a good soul. She is continuing to fight this fight — breathing life into something that may get pushed aside, may not always be recognized.”

This is the heart of Barren Fruit: a community where women can exhale, share, grieve, hope and feel held by someone who has walked the road herself.

Turning pain into purpose

Long before she founded the organization, Murray carried a kind of pain that went unexplained for most of her life. It began at age 11, with a first menstrual cycle so excruciating she could only curl into a fetal position with a heating pad and a cup of tea.

The pain didn’t ease with age — it deepened.

“It didn’t dawn on me until I was older that something was wrong and something should be done,” she said.

For 22 years, she lived with heavy cycles, sharp pelvic pain and symptoms that birth control only masked. At 33, newly married and trying to conceive, she finally pushed for clearer answers — digging into her own records, researching and advocating fiercely.

A specialist finally offered clarity, but it came with devastation.

“I wound up having fibroids, endometriosis… I had what’s called hydrocephalus.” Murray said. “I had cysts that ruptured.”

The surgery brought relief, but the prognosis nearly broke her: just a 1% chance of conceiving naturally.

“When you feel like your body can’t do what it’s been created to do, that feeling of brokenness, that feeling of emptiness,” she said.

Faith, calling, and the birth of Barren Fruit

In that darkness, something unexpected took root. As she prayed and studied scripture, she began learning the stories of seven biblical women who experienced barrenness — and all but one eventually conceived.

“When I realized that, I began to get chills and cry about it at night,” she said. “Really realizing the higher calling… that I had a larger story to tell women.”

That calling grew into Barren Fruit, a space where her lived experience became a lifeline for others.

A miracle — wrapped in hardship

Years into her journey came the moment she stopped expecting — she was pregnant.

“My eyes welled up. I started to cry, Just knowing her journey.” Spencer said, recalling the moment Murray told her of the pregnancy.

But Murrary’s pregnancy was far from easy.

“It was a mental rollercoaster because this is something I prayed for, for so long,” she said. “Morning sickness? No — it was all-day sickness. I lost so much weight because I couldn’t eat. Pregnancy was horrible.”

She battled depression, fear, pain and exhaustion. At just 25 weeks, she nearly went into labor.

But when the moment finally came, everything changed.

“She wanted to be late,” Murray laughed. “But I pushed twice and she was here.”

Her daughter, Ari Elise Murray, arrived on March 8 — International Women’s Day.

“She lives up to every part of it,” Murray said. “She is a prayer warrior.She knows how to advocate for herself and speak up for herself. Sometimes too much. But she’s been a blessing.”

Carrying grief alongside gratitude

A year later, Murray became pregnant again, but the pregnancy ended in miscarriage.

“The Lord blessed me twice,” she said softly. “But only one came earthside.”

Each passing year brings a fresh ache.

“Every year that goes by, the more I am falling into the infertility phase,” she said. “Every year that I do this work… It’s a reliving of what I went through. I grieve it again.”

When her daughter asks for a sibling, it stings. “Of course it hurts a little bit,” she said.

Still, she continues. Still, she shows up for others.

Carrying her own story and carrying others too

The work is sacred. Heavy. Transformative.

“Sometimes I can feel the grief of everyone,” she said.

But she also feels a sense of purpose. The same calling that once brought chills and tears in the quiet hours of the night.

“I’m grateful,” she said. “Although it is a pain that I experienced, I’ve re-experienced the work and the power of what He’s doing through me and through others.”

Through Barren Fruit, Diona has taken what once felt like brokenness and transformed it into something that nourishes others — a place where women can find strength, community and hope.