Turns Out Infertility Is Good For Something After All...

The first time I received an infertility diagnosis (PCOS), it was a painful thing to hear. A few months later, when my OB called to tell me about R's practically non-existent sperm count, it felt like the world was crashing in around me.

Almost exactly a year later, when we experienced miscarriage #1, it was absolutely impossible to even fathom how it would be possible to wake up one day and not have my first thought be of the baby we lost, impossible to think that we would ever be able to even laugh again.

But the thing about infertility - when cycle after cycle fails, diagnosis after diagnosis hits, baby after baby dies - is that eventually you deal with so much devastating news that handling it actually starts to come automatically.

My dad was diagnosed with leukemia on Thursday.

When I heard the news, of course it was like a punch in the gut. His symptoms came on quickly; I talked with him a week or so ago, and he was fine at that point. (Or at least if anything was bothering him, he didn't mention it and he sounded totally normal.)

Six years ago, this news would have leveled me. Instead, I haven't even cried, haven't even teared up. It's not that I don't care or that I'm not concerned, because I absolutely am. It's just that this is how far infertility has brought me - instead of falling apart, I automatically went to "What type of leukemia is it? What are the doctors doing for him immediately? What is the longer-term treatment plan?" etc.

I don't know the answers to most of those questions yet, other than that it's AML, which is the kind that has a less favorable survival rate. It's tough, because I'm used to being in the center of all the medical stuff and pushing to get answers, but this time I have to take a step back and respect that as his wife's role. She's not as pushy as I am. :-)

My dad lives in a very small town, and he started out in that town's hospital. However, he was supposed to be taken by ambulance last night to one of the best medical complexes in the country, which is three hours away from where he lives. I'm thankful he's going there, because that's one of the very best places he could be. But it's probably also a sign that the situation is pretty grave.

I expect we won't have much more information until toward the end of the week, because I'm sure it will take at least a few days to do the initial tests that his new hospital is going to want. I'm trying to figure out when to go see him.