So we've had the Pox and survived.
Not without a massive dose of guilt for me though.
T had her jabs nearly two weeks ago. All went well, my brave girl didn't even cry (I think the promise of sweets and a toy helped sooth the pain).
Slept and ate fine, no problems I thought, phew.
3 days later, we woke up and there was a rash. So of course like the techomum that I am, I was straight onto the NHS website looking it up. Ah so a rash is common, oh her cousin had one too you say. All good.
Except the next day, even more spots. No other symptoms, eating fine etc. "No no all is fine" said M, "it's just a reaction".
The next day I am back to work after a week off, get a text from SIL "She won't eat her lunch and has spots on her tongue, going to pop her to walk in centre just to be sure"
2 hours later "She has chicken pox"
Oh god, why didn't I realise, why didn't I get her checked out, why did I let MIL take her to SIL (where there is a 4 week old baby) why this, why that.
Touch wood so far none of the cousins have caught it. She is still on course to go back to pre-school next week. No new spots, no major scarring.
And that my friends is the last time I listen to my husband and ignore my instincts!