Mother’s Day has always been a little difficult for me. I am one of many women who struggle with infertility.

When you begin fertility treatments, everyone tries to be encouraging. You hear countless success stories. You’ll hear stories in which women, sometimes even your own friends or family members, tried for 5, 10, 15 years or more and suffered through unfortunate miscarriages and false positives, before finally becoming pregnant and being able to carry a baby to term. You’ll hear about women who were in some stage of the wonderful, phenomenal, albeit expensive, process of adopting a beautiful child when they learned they had finally been able to conceive and could not have felt more blessed to have 2 (or more) amazing children to love. You’ll hear all sorts of interesting, useful, and downright crazy theories, ideas, and tips to help you achieve your dreams of motherhood.

But in spite of all the inspirational and positive tales, the uncomfortable truth no one really talks about is that not everyone’s journey with infertility has a happy ending, at least not one that ends with them having a child or children to call their own.

Many of the untold stories of infertility end in destroyed relationships, with couples parting ways because one or both blame themselves or each other. Over time, people just shut each other out, no longer communicating openly or effectively, because their painful struggle with infertility creates intense emotional wounds and unrelenting feelings of resentment, anger, and heartbreak.

There are other cases in which couples, who are able, liquidate all their assets and exhaust all their financial resources, before they ever realize their dreams of parenthood. Or those who make the hard choice NOT to sacrifice their savings and/or retirement for an uncertain future that can offer no guarantee of success. Still others make peace with the fact that they will never be parents, because they simply cannot afford prohibitively expensive treatments or adoption.

For some of us, our female identities are so profoundly tied to becoming mothers that no other goal or achievement means anything. We simply cannot escape feelings of inadequacy, no matter how hard we try or how hard our partners, friends, or families work to reassure us.

Infertility is a thief; a thief of joy, a thief of time, a thief of confidence, a thief of self worth, a thief of energy, a thief of hope, a thief of faith, and even a thief of financial security. It can easily destroy you and everything you love. It can harden your heart and make you cold, bitter, and unfeeling. It can make you envious of people who, in your mind, don’t seem to deserve the awesome gift they’ve been given or understand how lucky they are to have children. It can make you dread and avoid social media, because, while you’re genuinely happy for a friend or loved one who is sharing her pregnancy announcement, you’re also devastated that you will never have that moment of joy for yourself.

But it’s important to remember that infertility does not define a person or a couple. For all the things infertility robs from you and the grief and despair it instills, it can also be a powerful tool. It can help you understand that you are so much more than your ability to reproduce. It can help you develop patience, strength, empathy, compassion, and forgiveness. It can teach you to be kind to yourself and others and appreciate small moments of joy. It can lead you to the endless satisfaction and delight of being someone else’s village. Because your inability to experience motherhood doesn’t mean you can’t support, help, and love someone else’s children, as if they were your own.

So Happy Mother’s Day to ALL the different types of moms out there! Whether your children have 2 legs or 4; live here or in heaven; are adopted, biological, or a friend or relative’s children; if you adore them, spend time with them, do things for them, and do your best to help raise them to be good humans, I see you and I think you’re amazing!

Just now, while carrying groceries from the truck, one of my least favorite chores 😒… I was tripped up by a DEEEEP tire tread at the edge of my front yard. 😱 

I’d like to thank my extra thoughtful neighbors for being the kind of considerate, caring individuals who park their oversized tractor-tire, monster truck reject in someone else’s grass, leaving Grand Canyon-esque divots for us unsuspecting clumsy people. 👍🏻 

Anyhoo, as I plummeted, what seemed like 10 stories, to the ground, I tried to make my peace with the fact that this was how it would end for me. I honestly wasn’t really even that surprised. I always knew I’d be taken out by a fall; I just assumed it would be because I tripped over one of the cats. 🤷🏻‍♀️ 

In my uniquely dramatic fashion, I remained perfectly still, eyes closed, praying for forgiveness (and swift vengeance 😈), on my little plot of grass. Charles ran over to inspect me, as if I was a baby bird who had fallen out of the nest; assured me that I had, in fact, survived; and asked if I was going to get up or if he should bring me drinks, snacks, and an extension cord for my phone charger to my new bed. 😏 

The thought of peacefully enjoying the fresh air was briefly appealing, but once I remembered this is May in Florida, I decided to opt for air conditioning. 😎 So, I dusted myself off, looked around for witnesses to my embarrassment 😬, and went inside. 

Don’t feel sorry for me. I promise I’m fine. 😁 My left knee and ego are a little sore, but thanks to my refusal to wear real pants, there’s barely any evidence of my fall. 🙌🏻 😃 So, don’t you dare try to tell me leggings aren’t pants! 😂 

#LeggingsFTW #RealPantsSuck #DownWithJeans #FallRisk #DangerToMyself #ClumsyPeopleUnite #BeCarefulOutThere #ChoresAreDangerous

*Developmental Math*
Day 1: This is so simple. I just needed a little review to boost my confidence and get back into the swing of things.🤓 I can totally do this. I’m so gonna ace this class. 😎 Maybe I’ll share my genius by tutoring the other students. It would be selfish not to. 💅🏻 I might even minor in mathematics. 👩🏻‍🎓 This is a piece of cake. I’m gonna have the easiest semester ever. Why in the world have I always hated math?🤷🏻‍♀️

Day 2: *Reintroduction to fractions* Ohhhh, RIGHT… 🤦🏻‍♀️ 😭 😤

For our final art assignment, excluding the final exam, Mandy asked us to create a public art proposal and sketch a rough draft of the artwork we proposed. It could be any type of artwork, based on any subject matter, with no limitations of funding, time, or labor.

I took my time and gave it a lot of careful consideration, but inevitably, the only public art display I could imagine was a Hurricane Michael memorial.

I realize it’s been over 6 months and a lot of people may have grown weary from hearing us Panhandle residents mention the hurricane and how it has affected our families, homes, businesses, schools, jobs, and daily lives, but please understand that we aren’t seeking pity or discounting other terrible things that others have experienced or are currently experiencing. We’re just doing our best to heal, rebuild, and regain some semblance of normalcy. Sometimes we just need to vent, complain, cry, curse, please be patient, we’re happy to return the favor. 😘

So, without further ado, here is my proposal and rough sketch.

 

Public Art Proposal

Spring 2019

I would like to propose a hurricane Michael memorial, called “Sphere of Devastation.” The memorial would be a 10 foot spherical structure composed of a variety of hurricane debris, such as tree limbs, shingles, window frames, bent iron, destroyed cables, and other items salvage from the disaster. This would be a kinetic sculpture and would rotate on an iron axis, at varying intensity, in response to the wind. Ideally, the sculpture would be located at Tyndall Air Force Base, as it was the heart of much of the destruction.

This project is very personal to me. My family and I were significantly impacted by the hurricane. We chose not to evacuate, since initial estimates were for a category 3 hurricane and much of the concern from meteorologists and emergency preparedness officials focused on the threat of flooding and storm surge. As residents of Callaway, we decided we were inland enough to not be terribly concerned. We would simply ensure we had bottled water, batteries, flashlights, and nonperishable food and prepare to be without electricity and running water for up to two weeks, as we had in the past. This decision proved to be a near fatal error that I deeply regretted, as my husband and I sat in our Jeep and watched everything we owned be obliterated before our eyes. It is incredibly heartbreaking to me that so many people have such limited understanding of the magnitude of the storm. I believe my piece could offer new perspective and allow people to interact with a compilation of genuine debris in ways much different than photographs or paintings allow. As our community continues to heal and rebuild, such works are essential to moving forward, without forgetting how far we have all come.

Visual Arts project #2 is now complete. 🙌🏻 To recap… This assignment was to choose an artist whom we had discussed in class and make one of his/her works my own. 🤨 This has been particularly challenging for me. 😩 I don’t care what anyone says about imitation being the sincerest form of flattery, copying another artist’s work undermines what I love about artistic expression. 👩🏻‍🎨 Still, failing an art class was another thing that never made it on my bucket list. 😬 So, I decided maybe this was not the time to stage a personal protest. 🙇🏻‍♀️

For my inspiration, I chose “Landscape” by John Frederick Kensett. I can’t decide if it’s an unhealthy obsession or just part of a normal healing process, but even 6 months later, I continue to be preoccupied with Hurricane Michael. 🌀 And from the moment I saw this painting, all I could think about was how much it reminded me of the piles of hurricane debris that have become such a fixture of our landscape here in the Florida panhandle. So, I decided to create a piece MINIMALLY inspired by this work. Honestly, the only portion of mine that resembles his is the eerie yellow and orange sunset. 🌅 In place of his mountains, I’ve incorporated our bent and broken trees, as well as a few damaged homes that are secondary to the massive mound of debris in the foreground. I chose to forego a lake or pond, instead including one of our slightly obstructed roadways. 

I’m calling my piece “Outside The Evacuation Zone”, as a poignant reminder that many of the most devastated areas were not in an evacuation zone. 

My media is a mixture of oil pastel and watercolor over a charcoal sketch on poster board.

 

“Outside The Evacuation Zone” by: Kimberly Liichow

“Landscape” by: John Frederick Kensett

Once again, I’ve been reminded that I’m no spring chicken. 😩 Actually, the use of the term “spring chicken” may be enough to illustrate that point, but that’s a discussion for another time. 😉 In Visual Arts today, we delved into the world of photography, which was when I discovered further evidence of the ever present generation gap between me and my ‘peers’. 🙃 Our instructor has us call her “Mandy”. (apparently Art teachers don’t like conformity or proper names… or maybe she’s like me and doesn’t need anymore reminders that a lot of her students see people over the ripe old age of 35 as decrepit, geriatrics. 🤷🏻‍♀️)

Anyway, during the photography discussion, Mandy asked if anyone had any experience with antique cameras. 📷I hope all of my fellow old people are sitting down for this response. 🙄 Without missing a beat, a guy in the front row, raises his spray-tanned hand 🤚🏻 and says, “My mom has a 35 mm camera in the attic.” 😳 

Woah there Chippy! Back the truck up. When did 35 mm cameras become antique? I had one when I was a teenager and I was not adequately prepped for the things I used in my adolescence to be referred to as antiques. 🤨 

I’m going to start a petition for admissions to add a special supply list for older students that includes wine, chocolate, and sedatives. Things are really getting out of hand. 😒

Hey there! Remember me? 🙋🏻‍♀️ I know I’ve been AWOL for a bit and I apologize. I’m confident that any adult student will agree with me when I say juggling school, a full time job, family, volunteer activities, and just life, in general, requires a certain level of time and energy. 😴 Most days, it’s all I can do to show up to everything on time wearing 2 matching shoes. 😏  

Here’s what I’ve been up to lately. Yesterday I made an 82 on my 3rd Microbiology Lecture exam. Not the perfection for which I strive, but since I mostly feel lost, overwhelmed and sometimes even terrified by the epidemics 😱 and antibiotic resistance 😳 we regularly discuss, I’ll take it. 🤷🏻‍♀️ I’ve also taken Microbiology Lab Exams 1 & 2 and scored an 89 and 87, respectively. 😌 Hands on learning definitely comes easier for me, so the differences in my grades come as no surprise. 😉 

In other news, spring break is next week! 😃 Am I going to Cancun, Jamaica, or Daytona? Lololol! 😂 No, I’m going to work, like normal people. 😏 I’m still excited. 💃🏻 It gives me a short reprieve from the exams that seem to be scheduled almost every week. 🤪 Plus I’m going to use this opportunity to focus on my 2nd Visual Arts project. 👩🏻‍🎨 

I turned in project 1 a couple weeks ago. How did I do? That’s a very good question that I don’t have an answer to. I’m sure she’ll get around to grading it…eventually. 🤨 No worries. I mean, it’s not like I made an extremely personal work that I poured my heart and soul into and my fragile ego is hanging by a thread, waiting for feedback or anything. 😬 It’s totally fine. 🙃

Anyhoo, for project 2 I’m supposed to choose a famous work that inspires me and make my own version of it. 😮 Is it me and my already heightened anxiety or does that description bring to mind terms like plagiarism, copyright infringement, and theft of intellectual property? 🤔 I’ll post an update soon, hopefully from outside prison walls. 😬 Incidentally, does anyone know a pro bono copyright attorney? #AskingForAFriend 

I finished my 1st project for #UnderstandingVisualArts. 😍 It’s a Vanitas that I’m calling “Glimpse”. The premise is all the things this woman wants to accomplish in her life and her struggle to find balance as she attempts to achieve everything within the finite amount of time she has on earth.

In the center of the eye is a glimpse of various symbols. On her desk, a laptop is open to the study materials that are necessary for her to obtain the degree hanging on her wall, which is the foundation for the career indicated by the RN ID badge on the edge of the desk.

Beside the laptop is her cell phone, which represents her friends and her social life. If we peak outside her window, we see the white picket fence that is synonymous with a comfortable home, then we notice the wedding rings and pregnancy test that signify her hopes for the love and laughter of a family with which to share that home. We also see a passport, crucial to her plans to travel the world, and a checkbook that represents financial security. Finally, we see the clock on the desk, which is strategically set around 8:30am. This is an important detail, because if the average lifespan were divided into 24 hours, 8:30am is somewhere in our 30s.

The work is mixed media: it’s acrylic paint, with a touch of collage over a charcoal sketch, on poster board. What do you think? 😁

Warning ⚠️
I’m on my soapbox today. This post is brought to you by the letter ‘D’ for disease. 🦠

Microbiology Lab is really freaking me out! 😱 The more time I spend looking at microbes and reading case studies, the more I relate to Howard Hughes. 😷 I have learned more than I ever wanted to know about TB, MRSA, Ebola, HIV, Malaria, Leprosy, Polio, Measles, Mumps, Influenza, and so much more. 😱 By the end of the semester, I surmise that I’ll be sitting in my own private positive pressure cleanroom rocking myself in the corner. 😳

I’m going to say this loud enough for the people in the back🗣: Hand hygiene is way more important and effective than most people could ever imagine. It is the simplest and BEST defense any of us have. So, I implore you, 🙏🏻 if you cannot remember the last time you washed your hands, go! Do it NOW! 🤲🏻 Actually, even if you CAN remember the last time you washed them, do it again. Wash them all the time! I promise they won’t fall off. 💁🏻‍♀️ Also, clean your phone! Seriously, it’s disgusting, like worse than a public bathroom. 🚽 🤮

And another thing. ☝🏻 Contrary to popular belief, sharing is NOT always caring. 🙅🏻‍♀️ If you’re sick, do NOT trust Google and do NOT ignore your symptoms. Visit a trained medical professional and/or stay home. 👩🏻‍⚕️ If the kids are sick, do NOT follow seemingly innocuous advice from well-meaning, but unqualified strangers on social media🤦🏻‍♀️; take 👏🏻your 👏🏻child 👏🏻to 👏🏻his👏🏻or👏🏻her👏🏻pediatrician. 👨🏻‍⚕️ It is 2019 and young, HEALTHY people are still DYING from treatable and preventable illnesses. Yes! Even in DEVELOPED nations! 😢

This concludes my public service announcement. Please continue with your day… after you wash your hands! 🖐🏻

My class schedule is very predictable and unchanging, with the exception of federal holidays: Monday-Thursday, every week, I attend one or two classes. Conversely, my work schedule, while still predictable, rotates. Thus, school and work often mingle. On days when I have both, I go in 2 hours early; take an early, extended lunch break to attend class; and return to work. It’s a great routine for the most part. However, leaving work to make it to class on time can sometimes be a challenge. But so far, so good. I may be the last one in the door, but I’m on time and that’s what matters. 😉

Unfortunately, there are some disadvantages to being the last one to arrive. Sometimes, instructions and information are given before class starts and arriving at the last minute means I wasn’t briefed on what awaited. 😕

I was beaming with pride and optimism when I walked into class this morning with a couple minutes to spare. 💁🏻‍♀️ It was a fantastic feeling and I reveled in it for the full 15 seconds, before I opened the door. 😒

Immediately something was off. 🤨 I panicked and got that nauseous, clammy feeling I know all too well. After all, I am more anxiety than person. 😬

Someone was in my seat… someone different was in my neighbor’s seat and their neighbor’s I looked around the room and EVERYONE was in a different seat. 😱Was I in the wrong class? 🤔 Had I accidentally gotten my days confused? 😨 This was some madness, straight out of one of my elaborate stress dreams. 😭

But wait, I recognized the people around me. They were just rearranged. What was happening? It was like musical chairs, but without the music. (Incidentally, I’ve always hated that game. What kind of Psycho encourages people to steal other people’s chairs? It’s chaos and my anxiety and I are not amused. 👎🏻)

Just then, as if prompted by one of the producers for this reality show I’m reluctantly participating in, Ms. P addressed the class.

“For those of you who just arrived. Take a seat with a new group. There shouldn’t be anyone in THIS group who was already in your last group.” 😊

Wait, what? I just got used to those people. We had developed a rapport. Why would you do this to me… I mean us? This class is mostly teenagers. Think about the CHILDREN! 😮

She went on, “This will help you learn about different personalities and discover who you work best with, while helping you learn to cope with those you may not. You’ll also make lifelong friends and create lasting bonds.”😊

Is she serious? 😒 I don’t want to create bonds. I just want to learn this material and move on with my life. Why must she continue to torture me via team building and personal enrichment.😭

Apparently this is our routine. 🤨 We will change groups following each test. 😒 This was NOT mentioned in the syllabus and I know, because I studied that thing like there was going to be an exam. 🤓 This is inhumane. 😫 You can’t just spring these things on me. I need time to mentally prepare. 🙇🏻‍♀️

That’s all for now. Stay tuned for my next meltdown. 🙃