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Other kids probably thought I was the camera my mother gave me nauseating. In high school I was a cheerleader, the president of the senior class, captain of the track team, an honor the camera my mother gave me student and a prom-queen candidate, and I still managed to work evenings and weekends. I had a nice boyfriend, and I wanted to marry him, have two children, live near my parents and have a career as a lawyer or writer, or maybe even a social worker like my mother. I seemed just like all the other girls I knew who were my age--only more of a goody-goody. But somehow deep inside the camera my mother gave me I suspected I was different. BECOMING A MOTHER: Clara At 3 P.M. on January 9, 1959, the doctor smiled at me and said, "You have a beautiful baby girl." And beautiful my baby was, dainty and small, a cute little thing I could dress up, play with and read to.
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