I went through some old photo albums my younger sister found. She had mentioned that in every old photo of me as a baby, I was essentially in a cage -- crib or playpen with no one holding me. I looked at the photos and she was right. There are only a few photos of anyone holding me, even when I was an infant. In one of the few photos of my mother holding me, she looks completely miserable. There are a lot of photos of my older sister giving me a bottle through the bars of the crib or the playpen. None of anyone else feeding me or giving me a bottle. It is weird and a little eerie to see photographic proof of how little my parents cared for me. Birthday photos are really telling also. The difference between my and my sister's birthday are blatant. I showed them to T and I was all triumphant to have PROOF that I was not making things up and I am not a drama queen about the whole thing. T on the other hand seemed very sad. It was a strange experience all in all.