**Diary Entry**
Bloody hell, are mine any worse than yours?
“Waitshe’s got chickenpox? Are you out of your mind? I’m pregnant!”
“Relax! She hasnt had a fever for three days. The doctor says shes not contagious anymore.”
Emily stood frozen in the doorway of the living room, taking a step back from the makeshift infirmary. Theyd only just arrived at her mother-in-laws five minutes ago, and already she wanted to bolt.
On the sofa, Margaret sat smiling as if nothing were wrong. Beside her, four-year-old Sophie fidgeted on the floor in unicorn-print pyjamas. Her sister-in-laws daughter was dotted with spotsgreen as a leopards.
“Relax? Do you even realise Ive never had chickenpox? That its dangerous for the baby? Why didnt anyone warn me?” Emily spun toward the exit.
“Em, youre already here,” Margaret said placatingly, as if that should soothe her. “Just stay.”
“If Id known, I wouldnt have stepped foot in this house!” Emily snapped, yanking on her boots.
She threw on her coat outsideno time wasted. She didnt need surprises like this at eight months pregnant. Her husband, Tom, scrambled after her.
The whole drive home, she berated herself. She knew how careless her in-laws were about health. Knew itand still went.
The first red flag had been when her sister-in-law, Lily, brought her sick daughter over unannounced. Emily had brushed it off thenshe wasnt pregnant at the timebut it rubbed her the wrong way.
Two days later, she fell ill herself. Working from home, she couldnt have caught it from anyone else. Fever forced her to miss deadlines, earning a scolding from her boss during their busiest season. She worked through it, miserable.
“Sorry,” Lily had shrugged when Emily confronted her. “Didnt realise your immune system was so weak.”
As if it were Emilys fault. As if Lily bore no blame. That burned worst of all.
Lily treated everyone with the same disregard. Shed drop Sophie at nursery with a cough, insisting, “If mines ill, they all are anyway! I cant keep taking sick leave.”
No lessons learned. Why would she? She wasnt the one suffering.
Thankfully, Emily avoided chickenpox, and little James was born healthy. But she resolved then: shed protect herself and her son from such recklessness, even if it meant lying. She “mixed up” the discharge date, allowing only her own mother to visit.
“Em, hows James? When can I meet my grandson?” Margaret would ask anxiously.
“Honestly, Im not sure. The doctor advised quarantinehis immunitys weak,” Emily would deflect. “Were not even taking him outside, let alone hosting guests.”
She spun excuses like a top. Played the fool, invented ailmentsanything to keep sniffling Sophie away.
Then Lily showed up unannounced. Emily opened the door out of habit, and the avalanche began. Sophie, grinning but sniffling, darted straight for the nursery.
“We fancied popping round for tea,” Lily beamed. “Sophie missed her cousin. Kids love younger ones, dont they?”
Emilys brow twitched. Every instinct screamed to shove them both out, but she held back.
“Sophies ill again, isnt she?” she demanded, arms crossed.
“Kids are always ill,” Lily hedged. “Its just allergies. They need to build immunity!”
“Right…” Emily drawled skeptically.
She booted them out half an hour later under the pretence of meeting Tom from workbut it was too late. Two days later, James spiked a fever of 40, his tiny body seizing. That night was hell. She blamed herself for not slamming the door.
Enough.
“No more. Thats it. No sick Sophies in this house,” she told Tom.
“Em, shes just a kid”
“A walking germ factory. Every visit ends with doctors. Im done.”
Tom stayed silent. She saw his disapproval but didnt care. She was tired of fearing for their son.
Cutting them off completely proved impossible. Skipping Christmas or Mothers Day was one thing, but banning them from James birthday? That caused a row.
“Mum and Lily are coming tomorrow,” Tom warned carefully. “Around five.”
Emily froze, sponge in hand. She glared.
“I said no invitations!”
“Em, theyre family. I askedLily swore Sophies fine. Your mums coming too! Are mine worse than yours? Plague-ridden?”
She bit her tongue. Fine. Maybe things had changed.
They hadnt.
This time, Sophie wasnt coughingjust sullen, withdrawn. Uncharacteristically quiet.
“Sophies really okay?” Emily murmured to Lily.
“Her throat was sore this morning, but I gave her medicine. Shes fine now.”
Emily inhaled sharply, fighting the urge to scream.
“Lily, every time you bring her, we end up at the GP. Enough.”
“Honestly! Kids get ill. Hell catch worse at nurseryconsider it practice.”
Emily gaped.
“So I should thank you?”
“Dont be dramatic. Youre smothering him. All kids get sick.”
“Not by choice! You dont spread it like some bloody charity!”
The party soured. No one left, but the damage was doneand so was James, feverish again within days.
Surely that was the end? Even Tom saw sense.
Nope.
On December 30th, he stormed in, keys slamming onto the table. He vanished into the lounge, locking the door.
“You alright?” Emily called.
“Stay out. Keep James away. I was at Lilys. She needed help assembling Sophies bike.”
Silence. She knew where this was going.
“And?”
“Her nurserys got a norovirus outbreak. She told me after.”
New Years Eve was spent hunched over buckets, untouched buffet going stale. No countdown, no telly. Just silence.
“Tom, I cant do this. Im exhaustedterrified for James, for you. Phone calls only from now on, yeah?”
“Yeah,” he sighed.
Finally, he got it. Family shouldnt gamble with your childs healthnot for their own convenience. Even if “all kids get sick.”
**Lesson learned:** Blood isnt always thicker than sense. Sometimes, the best family is the one you choose to keep at arms length.
