Surviving the Holidays While Navigating Infertility and IVF
If you’re in the thick of infertility or IVF, you probably already know that the holidays can feel like walking through a minefield. The season is so centered on family, kids, and “togetherness” that it can be hard to find your footing when your own story feels uncertain or painful. For years, I found myself dreading the stretch between Halloween and New Year’s, not because I disliked the holidays themselves, but because of everything they seemed to represent.
Over time, I’ve built my own toolkit that help me get through this season with a little more grace and a lot more self-preservation. These have become my holy grail practices, the ones I return to often, but especially during the holidays.
1. Acknowledge That It’s Hard
You don’t have to pretend. Infertility and IVF are draining in every way — emotionally, physically, financially. And the holidays have a way of amplifying the ache. Simply naming that truth is an act of self-compassion. You don’t owe anyone explanations or fake smiles.
2. Protect Your Energy and Brick Your Phone
If a gathering or event feels too heavy, you can say no. If you need to leave early, do it. Protecting your peace matters more than keeping up appearances.
If you do show up, it helps to have a few ready responses for the inevitable questions:
“We’re taking things one day at a time.”
Short, polite, and final.
And one more essential boundary: your phone. Social media becomes a minefield this time of year. Even when you’re happy for others, those pregnancy announcements, matching pajamas, and baby-first-Christmas posts can sting. I’ve learned to “brick” my phone. You can buy an actual “brick” device or you can delete apps, set time limits, or leave it in another room. The quiet that follows can feel like a deep breath you didn’t know you needed. I have started to do this most weekends.
3. Move Your Body and Seek the Light
This one is non-negotiable for me. The connection between mental health, movement, and sunlight is real.
A few minutes of morning light helps regulate mood and sleep. Gentle exercise releases the anxious energy that builds up during cycles, waiting periods, and the general emotional heaviness of the season. Even ten minutes is something!
If you’re struggling to get through the days, consider medication if you need it. There’s no shame in that. You deserve to feel better. You deserve support.
4. Lean Into Hobbies and Creativity
Keeping your hands busy keeps your mind quieter. When emotions spiral, creativity grounds me, whether it is baking, making, crafting, organizing, or anything tactile. In the time I’ve been experiencing infertility I have leaned heavily into baking, knitting, and newly needle felting. There’s something healing about creating when so much feels out of your control. It doesn’t fix the pain, but it gives it somewhere to go.
5. Build Couple Traditions
Instead of focusing on what’s missing, we create small rituals that celebrate what we do have. Every year we swap ornaments that represent something from the past twelve months. We make wreaths, gather winterberries, and string dried orange garlands. Most years we make the drive to Boothbay to look at Gardens Aglow.
These simple rituals have become anchors. They remind us that this time still holds meaning, even in the waiting.
6. Embrace the Art of Wintering
Leaning into wintering has been one of the most healing shifts for me. The concept drawn from both nature and Katherine May’s beautiful book is about accepting that this season of life is slower, quieter, and meant for rest.
Instead of pushing against it, I try to honor it. Winter invites us to go inward, to pause, to recover. It reminds us that not all seasons are meant for growth. Some are for gathering strength beneath the surface. When I can settle into that mindset, I start to see beauty again in the season: the candlelight, the stillness, the earlier bed times, the chance to just be.
Making Space for Hope and Heartbreak
The holidays can hold moments of warmth and gratitude, alongside deep sadness for what’s missing. You don’t have to choose one or the other. Both can exist together.
Some days you might find yourself laughing, decorating, and enjoying pieces of the season, only to then cry quietly in the dark. That’s okay. Both are true, and both are allowed.
This year, I’m trying to hold space for it all. To move slowly. To let things be simple. To rest when I need to, and to stop fighting the quiet that winter brings. I’m choosing to make room for both hope and heartbreak. And I hope that you, wherever you are in this journey, find that too.
About the Author
Dr. Hannah is a naturopathic doctor providing whole body adjunctive healthcare to families in Maine. She believes every patient has their own unique health journey, which influences her personalized treatment approach. She has a passion for helping women, mothers and families heal and thrive, all while uncovering the root cause of whatever ails them. Her goal is to empower and guide her patients on the path towards healing the mind, body and soul through natural methods of healing. Dr. Hannah sees patients locally in Brewer, Maine and Portland, Maine. She is happy to serve the people of Lewiston, Ellsworth, Portland, Bangor, and all the towns in between!
Disclaimer
The information provided on or through this website is for educational and informational purposes only. This information is not a substitution for proper and personalized medical diagnosis or treatment. Always seek the advice of your physician or trusted healthcare provider before making an adjustments or changes to your healthcare regimen. Natural medicine is not inherently harmless, and therefore it is important to speak with your healthcare providers for personalized medical advice.