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“I take” my baby “to the park…hold it in a blanket,” the 49-year-old “mother” told ABC News reporters in January, lovingly describing her play-like infant. She is of the “reborn” community of women whose maternal instinct leads them to mother fake babies as they would real ones, which they choose not to have or cannot have. … In addition to the obvious benefits—no diapers, no college fund—reborns will always be infants and never bratty adolescents.

 

excerpts from News of the Weird, by Chuck Shepherd for week of 2/8/09

 

I’m almost—almost—speechless.

 

What’s wrong with this picture? Believe me, I understand the mothering instinct—but even my daughter, who functions at a 15-month level, knows the difference between a doll and a living, breathing human being. Three days ago she held her first real baby, and it was totally different than loving on baby doll.

 

The “benefits” of a fake baby may be very clear—“no diapers, no college funds…reborns will always be infants and never bratty adolescents.” But what about the obvious drawbacks? Like being incapable of ever giving anything back? No love, no hugs, no snuggles. No “Mommy, I wuv you!” Never experiencing the fierce joy and wonder of seeing a child develop, learn…grow?

 

A “reborn” can’t join in a family singalong of “I Love Trash” while rocking on a toy half his size, as Alex did yesterday morning. A “reborn” will never hold onto a blue beach ball for five seconds, as Julianna did, thinking she’s fooling you, and then giggle as she hurls it across two feet.

 

Far be it from me to mock women who are unable to have children. I’ve been there, for three unexplained years. It was agonizing. Soul-ripping. I wrote a song to try to communicate the pain of infertility to those who haven’t been through it. But there are better ways, healthier ways, to deal with the loss. And as for women who chose not to have kids?…I’m not even going there.

 

We live in a society—a world, even—where kids have been elevated to center-of-the-universe status. Nothing is their fault; they must have everything they want; they can be denied nothing. And yet despite, or perhaps because of, that same parental neurosis, people seem to want as few kids as possible. The default assumption is that once you have two, you’re done. We’ve lost sight of the fact that a child’s very existence is his or her first, and best, gift to his siblings, to her parents.

 

I’m not trying to browbeat everyone into having 6 kids. I firmly believe that family size is as individual as each family, and should be taken one child at a time. But this whole situation is a really creepy illustration of what is so out-of-whack about priorities these days. How did we get here?