Infertility

Last Wednesday we went in for Laila's radiation simulation in preparation for her first radiation treatment today.

We met with her radiation oncologist, Dr. John, who ran through the steps and risks and then they started the simulation.

We were taken to a CT scan room and they asked me to hold her while the put her to sleep (she has to be under anesthesia for every radiation session - every day).

Her tiny little body quickly went limp in my arms and I watched her eyes roll back as I placed her on the table. “Ok mom, give her a kiss and leave the room,” they said.

So, I obeyed and went to the waiting room to wait.

About 37 minutes later they told me she was in recovery, and escorted me to see her. Still completely asleep, Laila was laying on the table, now with new markings all over her abdomen, that they will use as little targets for radiation.

She finally woke up and we left.

Then, on Thursday afternoon, I received call from Dr. John. He proceeded to tell me that after further reviewing her case in preparation for today, he found that her Wilms tumor is in fact the largest out of the thousands upon thousands of cases he has reviewed. Not an award you want to win.

He then told me that as a result, the field of radiation needs to be larger than normal, which will likely cause conception and infertility issues later in her life. They are going to try to keep the field away from her ovaries as much as possible but with her being so small that is easier said than done.

Very strange situation talking about the future fertility of your 10-month old.

He proceeded to say that radiation is going to ultimately save her life - with radiation her survival rate is over 90% but without it’s less than 50%, and mentioned that she can always adopt if she can’t get pregnant on her own. Which is so true. And yes, saving her life is the goal. And maybe she won’t even want kids or technology will advance enough in 30 years to make it a non-issue...

But still, a super weird, and very surreal thing to be discussing and deciding.

So here we go. Today, she gets her first “zap” of radiation. The worst part so far is not being able

to feed her in advance of anesthesia.

We will be back everyday this week and two days next week. Until she competes her seven sessions.

And, whatever her future holds, we will cross that bridge when we get there.