Moses & Muhammad walk into a bar…

a blog about identity

Meet Dolly…

A listener of NPR’s The Takeaway posted a comment questioning the relevance of my being a stolen & sold baby to my “story” and if I wished to keep that part of my history private. The comment was respectful and eloquent, herself an adoptive parent.

Here is my answer — yes. And no.

All right, that’s it. Have a great day everyone. (I always wanted to say that!) The answer isn’t that easy, though, is it?

Here is the question part of Ms. Erdmann’s comment in full:

“I understand that the fact that she was “stolen” and “sold on the black market” was not directly related to the conversation (perhaps), but one could not help but want to know HOW she was stolen, BY WHOM, what was her adoptive family told about where the baby came from, and since she was STOLEN, how did she find her birth family. Is this part of Ms. Levinson’s amazing story and journey not something which she wishes to be public?”

Many of you have asked similar questions and I realize I haven’t answered them yet; at least not fully. So with my kids off to school and my coffee warm, here it goes.

How was I stolen & by whom?
In the early 1970’s there existed an industry of private adoption. However, due to demand outpacing supply, some enterprising individuals found ways to increase supply albeit unethically. (For more information please see The baby brokers have people in different parts of the country scout for young, financially weak, unsupported women with whom to develop relationships. In my case, a woman named Dolly befriended my mother when she was pregnant with me. A few months after my birth, my parents (who were married, in love, and loved me) needed babysitting help and Dolly stepped-in as many a good friend often does. Unfortunately, when my mother went to pick me up from her friend Dolly’s home, I and Dolly were gone.

I promise to continue tomorrow! Promise!

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3 thoughts on “Meet Dolly…

  1. Aileen Gravina on said:

    If that is not the embodyment of every Mother’s baby sitter fear I don’t know what is. That is horrifying.

  2. How awful!!! I listened to the Takeaway piece this morning. It’s good to hear you sharing your story.

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