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My Dream Come True I have never felt that I had the responsibility and consciousness to support myself and another human being, but I have always wanted a child of my own. I would go home from middle school and play with my baby dolls, given that I was too old to play with the dolls and I should be into makeup and boys, I was just so interested. Often enough, my mother, who was a supporter of five girls and had enough experience of her own, would answer the questions and concerns I had about what I wanted and needed to know about having a child. I still wasn’t satisfied and longed for a child of my own. As my luck would have it, my mother answered my wishes and told all of her children that another sibling was on the way. I was ecstatic; this was my chance, to have a child (even though it was not mine,) to tend to, to take care of, and to even love as if it were mine all along. The baby was coming and I just could not wait any longer. At 13 years old, I thought that this was every little girls dream, to finally ditch all the fake baby dolls, and have a real one to play, and feed real food, and have real baby bottles, with real juice and milk in them, but I was wrong. All of my friends laughed at me and told me I was still a little baby myself, but I just wanted to prove them all wrong; I had done this, well, eventually. When the time came, I had just had about enough with all of the excitement and anxiousness.
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