When Words Become Art 

“Everything appears to be normal.”
“I’m praying for you.”
“It’s called an HSG.”
“Don’t stress so much.” 
“It’ll happen.”
“The doctor will be in shortly.”
“Have you tested your progesterone levels?”
“Cortney, we tried for you for over three years.”

These are some of the words that have echoed around Cortney McConnell for years as she has navigated infertility. The well-meaning statements have followed her along a journey that is both isolating and shared by one in six people worldwide.

Through a process she describes as both difficult and healing, Cortney has gathered these fragments and transformed them into art. Her piece titled Unexplained Infertility: The Things I Hear turned seemingly ordinary phrases into a powerful visual statement that was recently displayed at the Melton Gallery at the University of Central Oklahoma, where she teaches drawing.

Cortney emphasizes the deeply personal nature of this piece. “The height of everything corresponds to me,” she said. The installation features a hand-built pedestal that rises just below her navel. On it rests a box that, when opened, reveals an unexpectedly deep interior—symbolizing the unseen layers of what she has endured. 

“It relates back to my womb,” McConnell explained. “Infertility is such a vulnerable experience. You’re trying to care for yourself while constantly being examined. I wanted to express that private aspect people don’t always see.”

Every inch of the pedestal’s surface is covered with text—comments from doctors, instructions, words of hope, and offhand, often unsolicited advice. “If it looks like a lot, that’s because it feels like a lot,” she said. “I wanted a holistic balance of the things that discouraged me and the things that gave me courage.”

McConnell’s process was slow and emotional. The writing alone took between fifteen and twenty hours. “Some days felt factual. Other days, it hit deeper than I expected,” she said. “By the end, I felt grateful. These words represent people who love me, even if they are loving me imperfectly.”

Much of her art and perspective is shaped by her faith and family story. She and her husband adopted their three children before facing infertility, a journey she describes as “mostly just God.” She says their life is a reminder that motherhood and meaning come in many forms. She adds, “It’s encouraging to be appreciated for who I am, now the mother, the aunt, the mentor I am today—not just who I might be someday.”

For McConnell, art is a way to honor that truth. “There’s freedom in expressing things we don’t always say out loud,” she said. “I’m letting people read what surrounds me, but not my inner thoughts. Those are mine alone.”

Follow Cortney’s inspiring work at cortneymcconnell.com.