Our oldest son has a case of breakthrough chicken pox. I knew there was a small (10-15%) chance he could still get it despite the vaccination, but I didn't imagine he would contract it, much less during the penultimate week of first grade. Of course, knowing our family's history with odds and percentages (we're the couple that conceived three babies while using three different forms of birth control), perhaps I should have expected E to get chicken pox.
On the bright side, post-vaccination cases are milder than regular cases. E doesn't have any pockmarks on his face and isn't scratching wildly the way I remember from my own case when I was 12. He's still fairly miserable, but he's not nearly as hysterical his mama was as a tween. I got mine nearly exactly 20 years ago, the summer after 7th grade, and was doomed to spend 10 days stuck in my house -- a real prison sentence for any Florida kid who'd rather be pool-party-hopping.
I allowed E to konk out in my bed. We watched Shrek The Third together and then he drifted off into a four-hour, Benadryl-induced deep sleep. Watching him sleep (yes, that's him in the picture but he was only four then), I remembered that Mami let me stay in her room too, mostly because I had to stay away from my beloved grandmother, who was dying of pancreatic that summer in her own room across the house. It was pretty traumatic for me.
I'm thankful that E's chicken pox doesn't seem nearly as upsetting as mine was, and even though he's missing all but the last two days of first grade, I am determined to make the best of our in-home seclusion. I just PRAY that baby J is spared, because THAT would be traumatic.
Wish us luck, friends. But don't stop by unless you're willing to be exposed to the pox.
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