If you're an Eighties baby, you'll likely be well acquainted with the Cabbage Patch Kids phenomenon as every kid was enamoured with their charm. The retro dolls are instantly recognisable thanks to their signature rosy cheeks, chubby faces and kitsch clothing - while Nineties kids obsessed over Barbie, the earlier generation doted over these dolls.
The toys were so in demand in 1983 that they caused riots in America as frenzied shoppers scrambled to buy their child one for Christmas amid stock issues. The dolls are more of a nostalgic collectable in recent times, but anyone who was lucky enough to own a Cabbage Patch Kids toy will know that your companion came with a mock adoption certificate to really seal the deal.
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In a discovery that feels reminiscent of the Cabbage Patch dolls mania of the 1980s, one woman has come across a facility that is taking the concept of Cabbage Patch Kids adoption to the next level.
Writer Sarah Baird took to Twitter to share her strange visit to an American Cabbage Patch 'hospital' where dolls 'give birth' and adopters have to sign an oath to take their newborn dolly home.
Kicking off a thread that left readers gobsmacked, she said: "A few weeks ago we were camping in the north Georgia mountains and happened to drive past a bunch of signs for 'babyland general hospital' where cabbage patch dolls are 'born' so we decided to check it out as kitschy fun…"
Detailing the unusual way in which the Cabbage Patch Kids are 'born' in the facility, Baird explained: "We were absolutely not prepared to witness the ceremony of a 'licensed patch nurse' helping a giant, led-light covered tree called 'mother cabbage' give 'birth' to a cabbage patch doll!"
Just when you thought things couldn't get much more bizzare, the writer revealed that the birthing procedure was far more serious than you'd expect for a children's toy, with a dedicated 'nurse' on deck to ensure the whole birth runs smoothly.
According to Baird, Cabbage Patch-related puns were even thrown into the mix during the birth.
She wrote: "The 'nurse' kept calling out mother cabbage’s dilation as 'five leaves apart, seven leaves apart, nine leaves apart' until she eventually announced that mother cabbage had to have a 'leaves-iotomy' (like an episiotomy) in order to deliver the baby…"
No expenses were spared when offering the mother doll 'pain relief', either: "The nurse gave mother cabbage a shot of 'imagicillin' to help her 'relax before, during and after labor and delivery," Baird explains.
After bravely witnessing a Cabbage Patch doll birth, Baird finally got told why such a facility exists.
She shared: "Finally, the cabbage patch doll is born + she has a birthmark: the initials of cabbage patch dolls’ founder, Xavier Roberts, right there on her bottom! we then learn that Mr. Roberts is a) still alive and b) created the Babyland General Hospital grounds in honor of his mother… [sic]".
Staying true to the origins of the nostalgic dolls, anyone who wants to 'adopt' a toy from the 'hospital' has to sign paperwork, but with a twist.
"If someone wants buy the recently-birthed cabbage patch doll, they have to take an 'oath of adoption' and sign some paperwork," Baird explains.
Twitter users shared their fascination with the faux hospital in the comments, with many being familiar with the weird and wonderful facility.
One said: "Grew up in the other side of the mountain from here and have been a couple times, always wanted one of the freshly harvested ones but they were so much more expensive than a regular CP doll, I knew it was weird but honestly as a seven year old it was awesome."
Another claimed that the Babyland General Hospital has an unusual toy guarantee: "The worst part is if your doll got damaged in any way, you could/can mail it to the doll hospital and if it's unfixable, they'll send you a coffin and death certificate for you to bury it, and then you can adopt a new one."
One Twitter user added: "As someone who went there as a very small child; it delights me every time someone discovers this place. I was accused of making it up. I am so glad to know it is just as odd and terrifying as I remember."
Do you have a story to share? Email us at ellie.fry@reachplc.com
