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As a little girl all I wanted to do was play with baby dolls. I was told I would make a great Mommy one day. "How many children do you want?" "How many can I have?"
After five years of trying, my mother was told she couldn't have another child. It was then that she and my father made arrangements to adopt the baby of this young single mother. It was 1969 and it was unheard of to be an unwed mother. When my birth mother delivered, I was taken away from her immediately. My adoptive parents were phoned and they flew down to Florida from New York to get me. It wasn't until I was 22 that I accidentally found out that I was adopted. I felt disbelief and curious. I wanted to know everything about my birth mother. They said they knew nothing and that they were my parents and loved me as their own. It left me feeling empty and betrayed.
Now almost 40, I spent most of my teenage and young-adult life with one illness or another. Some were operable, but because of some genetic reasons I was told There was the probable chance I could not conceive. If I did being so fragile, it was unlikely that I could carry my baby to full term. With all this in mind, I remained single. Not wanting to face the reality that I couldn't have a baby. I also didn't want to share my hurt. Being chronically depressed as well as being diagnosed with Attachment Disorder a therapist recommended that I find a baby doll to hold when I felt empty.
That is how my baby doll need began. My first two dolls were purchased together at a small Christmas store. They were set in a crib amongst four others. I went over to take a peek. When I saw the price tag I walked away; but still I was drawn to a doll named, "lil angel." She was a baby (not reborn) and had a tear running down her cheek. I lifted her into my boney arms and cradled her. I knew at that moment I couldn't keave without her. While holding her I glanced at the other dolls. A blonde toddler caught my eye. I picked her up as well. Here I was walking around the store holding two dolls (age 30) at the time. The owner said she would make me a deal if i purchased both. I told her I thought one was pricey. She said they are Lee Middleton dolls. At this time I didn't know one artist from another. Isn't she a beauty? Referring to the toddler I was holding. Yes, she is. At that point I look4ed at her tag to see her name. Shayla! OMG. That was the name I always said would be my first girls name. I felt this was fate; an expensive fate; but fate is fate. The owner and I spoke and came up with a price that we both agreed on. She boxed them up and I left. When I got to my car I opened the box of, "lil Angel." I was already humanizing them. I decided since I had Shayla I would name her rebekkah and becca for short. I took her out of the box and sat her in my lap as I drove home. I remember thinking my family especially is going to think I am crazy. Well, I was doing what my doctor suggested and that was that. This was the beginning of my addiction to dolls.
FUNNY STORY
I was returning home from a long-stay in a hospital in Arizona. Running late, I was running to catch my flight. On my back I had a heavy backpack. This backpack was so heavy that when I first put it on it pulled me backwawrds to land on my back, needing help getting up. In one arm was a huge floppy stuffed horse given to me during my stay. My other arm was holding onto "Becca" who was in a handmade snuggle that a patient made for me when I was in the hospital. I had that tucked under my coat as well with Becca since it was cold I figured no one would think anything of it. As I arrived at the gate the door was about to shut. WAIT! I ran and handed my ticket to the flight attendant. As I approached the gate the flight attendant said wear is your baby's ticket....ugh??? OMG! What should I do? Play Mommy or a crazy woman holding a doll? Oh' I am so sorry, her name is Rebekkah. For your connecting flight you will also need a ticket for her. How it was in the computer that I was flying with an infant. If I didn't show up for my connection playing "dolly" I was up a creek. Thanks. In the process of getting to my seat in the way back of the plane, I hit everyone in an aisle seat with either the horse or the backpack. Every step I took I made another apology. Oops I am sorry about that.., sorry, ouch...I really am sorry." Miss? dang, I am caught. I turned to the woman passenger, yes? Your baby lost a shoe! Oh' thanks so much it happens all the time. I put the shoe in my mouth holding it with my teeth. As I sat down sweat dripping from my forehead I thought yes, no one is in this entire row, free and clear till my connecting flight. Thought too soon.
As the pilot was making his announcement one last passenger sat in the aisle seat of my row. I looked over and smiled...ditto. In uniform the pilot for my connecting flight. How the heck can I pull off a sleeping baby for a four hour flight let alone the connecting flight? (Bubble over my head) The scene from "I Love Lucy" where Lucy tries to pass off a solami or was it cheese covered in a blanket as a baby. OKAY, cheese wiz, work with me here...and if you have it in you cry. I cradled her in my arms...thinking what psychiatric illness would this be?
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