5 Lessons Learnt from my “chickenpox affected” baby

A mosquito bite was enough to make me gloomy. I regret not checking the mosquito net twice before I retired for the day. That tiny scar makes me restless until it is gone forever leaving no mark. I feel the guilt creeping over me as I blame myself for not taking good care of her. Even though it was beyond my control, the sorrow of the after-effects of a mosquito bite remained unchanged every single time.

Whenever I see a tiny rash or a patch of dry skin, I immediately google out the possible causes and symptoms and solutions. On one such occasion, while reading an article, I saw the pictures of tiny babies – their faces all covered in red rashes. My mind couldn’t penetrate through those images. I pitied the babies who had to go through those horrible phases so early in life. I couldn’t fathom the how and why of that situation. Deep inside, I sighed that my baby is normal and I hoped she wouldn’t ever get affected with such dreadful viruses.

Few months into her life…not even a year old…my baby was sick for a week, which demanded a trip to the hospital. It followed by a fever and two tiny rash on her face, which definitely weren’t mosquito bites. With my growing anxiety, I waited impatiently for another 24 hours to see if the rashes contained or spread. I knew something terrible was happening, but still I wished it was a side-effect (I considered it to be far better than a dreadful disease) of a medicine. To my horror, the rashes grew big and new ones started popping up in several places on her face, head and body. I sent pictures to my sister and my friend and both of them threw light on my fears, which the doctor confirmed. It was chickenpox!

Soon after the consultation, I sat in the car, weeping with sorrow. An air of melancholy surrounded me. While I had my list of reasons to look glum, here are few lessons I learnt from my baby during the season of her sickness –

1. Physical appearance doesn’t matter

My 10-month-old baby’s face was all pock-marked. But, it didn’t take away the smile on her face. It didn’t affect her self-esteem. She knew she was loved. She would come and hug me innocently and had the assurance of being showered with tons of kisses.

Happiness is a state of mind

No matter how the world defines beauty, it definitely cannot alter your self-esteem. You are loved, no matter what.

Scars don’t undermine your beauty. They display your strength. They remind us that beauty is from the inside out and not the other way round.

2. Save the planet

Chickenpox meant “No Diapers”. And “No Diapers” meant “Lot of mess”. The best part was, she was happy to be potty-trained. I’m not saying there was no mess at all, but we’re slowly getting there with our tiny steps – saving the planet!

While your sickness means giving up on your comfort or moving out of your comfort zone, you can choose to do something worthy of the move. Instead of cribbing about the loss of comfort, be proud of your new achievement.

3. Fight your battles

She gets up, plays actively and cannot be stopped from her naughty routine.

Just because you’re going through a season of suffering, it doesn’t mean you should sit in a corner and cry. Pick yourself up, get back on your feet and let nothing stop you from doing what you want to.

4. Be active – Make yourself a new routine

The sickness has altered her appetite and sleep schedule. But, she soon found a new pattern for diet and sleep. She’s active all the time – singing, screaming, dancing and repeating it all over.

You don’t have to follow somebody’s timeline or timetable. Make yourself a fresh one – something which works best for you.

5. Never give up

Her sickness didn’t dwindle her eagerness to learn new things – stand all by herself, start walking and dancing. She kept trying!

Let nothing stop you from trying what you always wanted to achieve. Success doesn’t stop at failure. It stops when you stop trying.

We appreciate and are thankful for all your prayers. It’s a joy to see Liz recovering quickly and getting back on track. We’re proud of our little warrior. She’s a fighter, indeed!

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