We live with my in-laws and our baby is
Question
We live with my in-laws and our baby is due in November, but they refuse to get any vaccines. How do we protect the baby and talk to them without wrecking the household? Real household: caregiver juggling school week and one elder or sibling nearby. Schedule: Mon; shared house, baby due in November. Kitchen/home right now: hand sanitizer, masks. Already tried: arguing about it at dinner. Please answer as a practical family-care guide: what to do next tonight/today, what to avoid, and a clear decision tree. Constraints: respect «No diagnosis, no medication changes»; no dosing kids/pets/elders yourself; no mystery powders or buying prescription meds online; keep steps screenshot-friendly under ~25 minutes where cooking/care applies. Structure your help as (1) what I already tried vs better alternatives, (2) constraints/avoid list, (3) red flags—when to stop DIY and get clinical/urgent help. Keep the voice concrete and kind for a tired caregiver; stay inside kitchen/home-care/communication levers only. Name what success looks like in 24 hours without promising cures. Avoid brand shopping lists; focus on routines, food already at home, and communication scripts caregivers can screenshot.
Réponse
You're the one in the middle of this — pregnant, living with the people you're negotiating with, and the dinner table is the worst possible venue. Here's a plan that works even if nobody in the house ever changes their mind about vaccines.
1. What you tried vs. what works better
Dinner-table arguing didn't fail because the argument was wrong. It failed on venue. At dinner there are five audiences, no one can leave without it looking like a scene, and the topic loops. You can't negotiate with a whole table.
Better levers, roughly in order:
- Move the topic out of the food. One conversation, one person, not at a meal, not with the kids in the room.
- Ask *what specifically* they're declining. "No vaccines" is usually a bundle: one bad experience with a relative, a rumour, a specific fear about the baby's shots, or strong feelings about "foreign" medicine. Knowing which one is free and it often collapses the argument into something small.
- Borrow their own frame. Not "you're wrong" but "the baby doctor gave us a list and I'd like us to follow it." Authority they accept beats authority you have as the parent.
- Lead with what you will do, not what they must do. "I'm going to ask Dr. ___ which shots I should have in pregnancy and which ones we all should have around the baby." You don't need their permission to protect the baby.
- Get one page in writing. A short list from your midwife/OB/paediatrician — clinic letterhead, a few lines, your own language. Written things can be read again quietly instead of re-argued.
- Ask about the ones you'd be told about anyway. Your clinician will tell you what's generally recommended in pregnancy and around a newborn (things like pertussis/whooping cough and flu during pregnancy are commonly discussed; the measles-containing vaccine isn't given in pregnancy, which is exactly why the adults around the baby matter). Let them name it — I won't lay out a schedule or timing for you here, that's a conversation with your care team, not with me.
- Make the baby's rules neutral. The single biggest shift: frame the household rules as rules for the baby that hold *whether or not* anyone here is vaccinated. Then nobody has to concede anything for the rules to apply.
2. Tonight and today (under 25 minutes, no cooking involved)
- The door rule. Put hand sanitizer + a box of masks somewhere every person passes. Keep sanitizer out of reach and supervised — it's alcohol, small children will put things in mouths. You already have both; this is just where they live.
- Post three household rules where people will actually see them. Keep them short enough to read at arm's length from the fridge:
1. No kissing the baby — hands and feet too. Anyone can kiss the head? No: no kissing at all, hands, feet, and face.
2. Anyone with a cold, cough, sore throat, fever or upset stomach does not hold or feed the baby. Not "just a little sniffle" — that one gets renegotiated every time, so it has to be absolute.
3. Hands washed with soap and water, or sanitizer, before every feed, every hold, every visit.
- Pick a time and a person for the real conversation. Name it neutrally: "I want fifteen minutes with [them] on Monday after the school run, just the two of us." Fifteen minutes. Not an evening's negotiation.
- Book one appointment for yourself — midwife/OB — with a single question: "Which of these should I have, which should the adults around the baby have, and can you write it down for me?"
- Write down your version of tonight's line and stop there tonight. You've done the arguing for this week.
3. Script for the conversation
Open it (soft, one person):
> "I'm not trying to change your mind about everything. I just need to know which ones you're saying no to, so I can plan the baby's care properly."
If they get vague:
> "Is it a specific one, or is it the whole list? Either answer is fine, I just need to know which."
If it turns to "you people always" / accusations:
> "I hear you. I'm not asking you to be a different person — I'm asking what's the one you won't do, so I can plan around it."
The household rules, handed over as a finished thing, not a request:
> "These three are what we're doing either way. They're for the baby, not about anyone's beliefs. Can we agree to them for now?"
The one that closes the door on a repeat of tonight:
> "I'm too tired to have this at dinner. Monday, fifteen minutes, the two of us."
If they say "we'll think about it" and you need a real answer:
> "That's okay. But I need a yes or no on each one before the people start coming over, so I know who's allowed in the room with the baby."
What not to do: don't bring it up at dinner again; don't argue in front of the kids or the elder; don't use the baby as leverage ("if you won't, I'm not letting you hold her" as a threat rather than a health boundary); don't promise anything in exchange; don't let "we'll think about it" silently become the answer. Silence is not agreement — if the answer doesn't come, you plan as if it isn't coming.
4. Decision tree — use this when it's 7pm and someone's at the door
```
Someone wants to hold/feed the baby
├─ Sick today or last 2 days (cough, runny nose, sore throat,
│ fever, vomiting, diarrhea, unexplained tiredness)?
│ ├─ YES → no holding, no feeding. Mask on, hand off the baby,
│ │ they wash hands. Say: "Not today. Next time when
│ │ you're better — I'll hold her." (No debate.)
│ └─ NO ↓
├─ Hands washed (soap, or sanitizer if no sink)?
│ ├─ NO → hand them the sanitizer, then hold. (This one's
│ │ non-negotiable, so keep it non-negotiable in a
│ │ low-heat way.)
│ └─ YES → they hold the baby, head and hands never kissed.
│ Anyone with a mouth sore, cold sores, or a fresh
│ cut on their hands → hands washed, no face contact.
```
Grandparent-style shortcut: the baby goes to the bedroom/playpen and stays there if nobody has washed up or anyone is sniffling. Say it as a household norm, not an accusation at that person.
Also worth deciding now, before you're 8 months along: a written standing sick list — who does what when the elder or the sibling is unwell, and how the baby is handed off without a discussion in the moment. In a shared house, that's what actually prevents the argument at 3am.
5. Avoid list
- No arguing at meals, in front of children, or while cooking.
- No framing it as their beliefs vs. your beliefs, and no "science" debate — invite one specific question to the clinic instead.
- No buying anything unlabelled, no pharmacy shortcuts, no "just this one" remedies, no changing anything a clinician prescribed.
- No dosing anything yourself for the baby, the elder, or the school-age sibling — including anything from someone else's prescription or a leftover box.
- No letting refusal quietly become permission.
- No big gatherings in the first weeks. Fewer visitors, longer spacing between visits, everyone mask-on indoors. Say it as "the baby's doctor wants a quiet house for now," not "we're scared of you."
- No pregnancy-and-housing fights you might lose. If this conversation ever turns into a threat, a lock-out, or being pushed out while pregnant, that's a different conversation entirely — and one you should have with your midwife and a legal/advisory service early, before the baby comes.
6. Red flags — stop DIY, get clinical help
For the baby, any of these = same-day clinical contact, and for a newborn under 3 months with a temperature of 38°C / 100.4°F or higher, treat it as urgent today, not "wait and see":
- Fever, or a feverish feel, or a noticeably warm baby — especially in the first weeks
- Feeding noticeably worse, or fewer wet nappies than usual
- Unusual sleepiness, floppy, hard to wake, or irritable in a way that isn't theirs
- Breathing fast, grunting, ribs sucking in, pausing in breathing, or bluish lips or tongue
- A rash plus fever; a seizure; any injury
- Repeated vomiting, or green/yellow vomit
I can't tell you what's wrong and I'm not going to guess — that's the job of your clinician or an urgent service, and a newborn with a fever is one of the few things where "call tonight" is the right answer. Have the clinic number and your midwife's out-of-hours number on the fridge now, before November.
For the household, these are safety stops: anyone raises a hand, blocks your access to the baby, or threatens to make you leave; you feel cornered or frightened; a conversation has turned into shouting and won't stop. Put the baby somewhere safe, leave the room if you can, and talk to your midwife or a local support/advisory line — you can get help planning this before the birth, while you still have options.
If an elderly person in the house becomes acutely unwell — that's a doctor call, not a home remedy conversation, and not something to manage by adjusting their prescriptions.
7. What success looks like in 24 hours
Not "they agreed to vaccinate." That's not in your control and I'm not going to promise it.
A good day is:
- Three rules posted where people see them.
- One appointment booked for yourself, and one question written down to ask.
- Fifteen minutes scheduled with one person on a specific day, with a one-line opener you've screenshotted.
- A "when someone's sick" plan written down, so the 3am handover doesn't become an argument.
That's it. It buys you a household that runs on rules rather than on agreement — which, right now, is the version that actually protects a November baby.
If you want, I can turn the three rules and the sick-day handover into a single one-page sheet you can print and stick on the fridge. And if you'd like a clinician-facing question list, say the word — but for which vaccines, and when, that's your midwife or doctor to answer, not me.