We’ve got the wrong kind of chickens. Maya has been sprouting spots on her face, adding one or two each day all week. Today it looked even worse, so I left Elliot with Grandma (ah, the perks of house guests), and pushed, pulled, and dragged Maya to see the doctor.
He confirmed grandma’s guess: chicken pox.
Phew…. Maya’s been immunized, so it’s not likely to get worse. She’s just a little tired, and the spots look like a heat rash more than anything else. She simply needs to be quarantined until the spots scab over (about a week or so, he said).
It wasn’t until we got home and I plucked my dimpled, grinning, spitting baby out of grandma’s arms that I realized our trouble.
Elliot isn’t due for the Varicella (chicken pox) vaccine until 12 months. Oh how I made fun of that vaccine. We all got chicken pox, and we’re fine. The medical community is getting too vaccine crazy without fully studying the long-term impacts.
Now, though, as I stare down the prospect of oozy, nasty sores popping up all over my beautiful, happy girl for a week or so, I wish there was something I could give her to spare her.
When I frantically called the doctor back and ashamedly admitted that I had forgotten to inquire about my baby, his nurse just laughed at me. "She'll get it. Give her some baking soda baths. Good luck."
The good news is that, at 6 months old, Elliot most likely has some of my antibodies floating around in her system to help her fight off the pox. Let’s hope it’s a mild case!
Gems worth Re-Reading
About Growing Baby Doing Good Together Elliot Rose Family Rituals Fie Flora and Fauna For the Love of Learning Greenish In My Opinion Just for Laughs Just for Me Making Tinkles Maya Mindfulness Mmm... So Tastey NaNoWriMo News of the Day Noveling Photo Friday Sewing Sisterly Love Sweet Dreams The Chicken Ladies the end Tonsils We like to Move It Move It Wonderment