Coping with Infertility During the Holidays

surviving infertility during the holidays

Lately, I have this odd inner rebel thing that happens on holidays. Everyone posts their obligatory  “Happy (insert holiday)” pic on social media and I’m like “nope, I’m not gonna do it”…I generally end up doing it anyway (because I have a damn cute family – hello!?), but that rebel is silently shaking her head at me. I haven’t  really understood where it came from, but it hit me today…it’s the pregnancy announcements. The holidays naturally lend themselves to be a great time for pregnancy announcements. Families are together and the cutesy phrases are endless and adorable. “Can’t wait to welcome our little turkey”, bellies wrapped in bows, and ultrasound pics fill my feed…

It hit me today, as I was watching my not-so-little man drift off to sleep, that it’s quite likely we would have made a similar pregnancy announcement this holiday season had our little embryo snuggled in tighter. But he didn’t and we aren’t. So my inner rebel, or maybe really it’s my broken heart, is boycotting the cute holiday instagram feeds because inevitably I’m going to see all the pregnancy announcements and inevitably it’s going to hurt. coping with infertility during the holidays

The holidays are rough when you’re on an infertility journey. Being surrounded by family is at the same time comforting and a painful reminder of what you’re trying to create that just isn’t happening for you. Without fail, someone is going to ask me when I’m going to have another baby, launching into a monologue about how you don’t want to wait too long or the kids won’t have a close relationship and you don’t want to be changing diapers forever… and don’t forget, you’re getting older! There will always be the cousin who got pregnant on accident, the aunt who feels comfortable telling what you really need to do to get pregnant, the uncle who makes a tone-deaf joke about your husband’s manhood, the long lost friend from high school who, after too many glasses of pinot, asks all the inappropriate questions …maybe it isn’t these specific examples, but you get the idea… the holidays are an infertility minefield.

I’m sorry to say, my fellow infertility warriors, but it’s pretty unavoidable. So, how do we survive the holidays…or even more importantly, enjoy the holidays… as we navigate the minefield?

tips for surviving the holidays with infertility

Here are some of the tips I’ve been working on. I’d love to know your holiday survival tips too!

  1. Take care of yourself first. There is no way that you can respond well to Aunt Ida’s probing questions if you are tired, stressed and overwhelmed. What is in your toolbox? What are you go-to things that help recharge you? Know them. Do them. Often. For me, I know I’m better with a good night sleep, some exercise and time spent focused on what I’m grateful for.
  2. Know how you are going to respond. For the most part, we can anticipate the kind of questions or comments that are coming. It’s so helpful to plan and visualize what you want to say and how you want to respond. Have a one-liner ready for when people start asking. It’s the hardest when we aren’t prepared to respond; we tend to respond out of our emotional rawness. I think it is 100% okay to respond with tears, or to express to that their words, though likely unintentional, were hurtful. But, when we find ourselves out of control of our emotions that is when things can spiral and head in a direction we don’t want to go. Similarly, know how you are going to respond internally. You might be able to brush off your cousins questions and change the subject, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t spinning on the inside as she blabbers on about her annoying coworkers. Find a word, phrase, mantra or prayer that will center you, comfort you and allow you to let go of the inner emotional storm. Repeat until you can breathe a little easier.
  3. Identify your safe spaces. Where are you going to go if you need to take a break, if you need to cry, or punch a pillow? Who are the people who you can talk to? Your spouse is a good one to start with, but they could be dealing with their own struggles, naturally. So who else can be your “person”? Know who you feel comfortable asking to hang with you for a minute. Maybe that person can play defense for you too if they see an awkward situation unfolding. Let ‘em know you need their help- heck, make up a code word that lets them know you need to get OUTTA HERE NOW!
  4. Focus on the parts you love. If there is anything I’ve learned it’s that we HAVE to find joy in the waiting, in the pain, in the fear and doubt… it’s the only way. So, what do you LOVE about the holidays? Do you love baking with grandma? Card games with your cousins? Long afternoon walks admiring the gorgeous fall leaves? Do you love visiting the houses that go all-out with Christmas lights? Or snuggling up by a fire with a good book? Fill your schedule with the things you love about the holidays and try to just get lost in them. Be in the moment as much a possible. When that wave of sadness arrives, let it wash in and wash out. Acknowledge it and then turn your attention back to the beautiful moment that is right in front of you. tips for surviving the holidays with infertility
  5. Give yourself grace. Like heaps and heaps of grace. It’s okay to not be okay. It’s okay to feel sad, and to cry and to think that your cousin’s pregnant wife was a total jerk for complaining about feeling fat- you’d give anything to feel “fat”. It’s okay if you need to skip your neighbors holiday party because what really feels good for your soul tonight is snuggling up with your hubby and watching Love Actually. It’s okay to put your needs first, to take care of your heart instead of worrying about offending someone else. Grace, my friend, lots and lots of grace.

 

How do you find joy during the holidays while walking with infertility? Let me know in the comments.

** for the record, not all of these examples have happened to me in this exact way, or on this particular holiday. It’s a combination of my stories and my fellow ttc community’s stories

{Three Years With You}

The moment they put you in my arms for the first time was hands down the best moment of my life. It’s a memory that will forever be etched in my mind- the weight of you, the smell of you, the peace and love that filled my soul. Pure magic.

Three years with you, my boy. You’ve been with us now for the same amount of time we struggled to have you, wondering if you ever would be. Looking back I can see so clearly how each piece of the journey was preparing me to be your mama.

You do things your own way, on your own time. Just like when you took your time snuggling in as an embryo, leaving us waiting with baited breath. Teaching us to rely on God for patience.

Or how you insisted on snubbing all of your mama’s birth plans, refusing to flip head down no matter what I tried- forcing a c-section when all I wanted was a “natural” birth. It was as if you were warning me for what was to come: “don’t make too many plans, mom. None of this is going to go the way you thought it would, I’m gonna do it my way.” Oh, my independent little boy. I can’t help but laugh because really, with us as your parents how could I expect anything different.

You have made me a fighter. Your very existence is proof that deep inside me is the heart of a warrior. I fought to have you, fought to breastfeed you when many told me to just let it go, fought through postpartum anxiety to make sure I am the best mom I can be for you. I will never stop fighting for you, my love. Never. You’ve made me a mama bear, fierce.

I put you to sleep last night explaining that magic will come to you in the night and when you wake up you will be THREE. But the truth is, the magic didn’t appear last night. The magic started the day you were created and was with you every single day since. There was magic in each new word, each new step, each belly laugh, each “I miss you, mama”. Watching you grow is magic. You are magic, my son.

Each year your birthday is equal parts heartbreak and joy. Sad to leave behind another year knowing I will never again have two-year old you, but so very proud of the boy you are becoming and joyful that I have a future with you in it.

You correct me now, each time I call you “baby” – “no, mommy, I’m a big boy”. But you will always be my baby, my love. Always.

Happy Birthday, sweet boy. May this year bring more magic than the last.

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