Reborn Baby: madness?

When I was twenty, a friend told me that her mother used to play with dolls. She took care of them, dressed them, and did their hair. And she openly said: “I have dolls today because I never had dolls when I was a child and I always wanted one.” That adult, mother, and independent woman paid attention to what she once lacked. I call this “internal demand,” something that we all have (each in our own way and with our own aspects), something that is missing inside us and keeps asking for attention, even without knowing how to explain what it is. So it was not with much surprise that I started seeing countless reborn baby memes.

But after a casual look, I realized that the “internet trend” goes far beyond memes and the search for likes. It comes up against something that is central to those who work with human development: everything we do, we do to accomplish something, to give vent to some internal demand of ours. No one acts without a reason. Whether it is to attract attention, to belong, to repair a pain or to build a bond that was not possible to experience in reality. Psychoanalysis explains this: our behavior is an attempt to organize the lack. The lack of affection, of recognition, of belonging. And this does not always happen consciously or much less “rational”.

But getting back to reborn babies, they are nothing new. They have been used in various contexts for years: in hospitals, to simulate births. In schools, as a pedagogical tool. In first aid training. In work with elderly people with Alzheimer's, as a way of restoring affection. What these cases have in common is that in all of them the doll is a means. It helps to build something, to express something. It is a symbolic resource and, when used for this purpose, it has a therapeutic, educational and affective function.

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The problem arises when it stops being a means and becomes an end. In other words, when the bond with the doll becomes the center of someone's emotional life, when there is confusion between fantasy and reality. Then we are faced with a possible deeper psychic demand.

Let's be reasonable: some people with a reborn baby may be dealing with real losses. Grief, infertility, loneliness, emotional breakups, or even the fact that they never had the chance to play with dolls as a child (like my friend). In all of these cases, the reborn can become a symbol of reconnecting with what they were unable to experience.

Now, there is also the other side: the internet, the performance, the era of likes and content. There are people staging videos saying they didn’t go to work because their “baby” was sick. I don’t have the details of the cases, but the vast majority seem more like a joke than a mental disorder. And it’s okay to laugh, as long as we know how to differentiate exaggeration from real pain.

It is in this context that the bill emerges. Bill 5357/2025 proposes the creation of a mental health program for these people. It may seem absurd, but it is a sign that there is something there that deserves to be heard. Frantz Fanon once said that mental health cannot be understood outside of the social context. When someone projects affection, care or rebuilding a bond onto a hyper-realistic doll, it is not up to psychologists and psychiatrists to simply diagnose, but above all to listen to what this choice is trying to express.

There is also a symbolic layer that really catches my attention…. Taking care of a reborn baby is, in a way, simpler. He doesn’t cry in the middle of the night. He doesn’t have a fever. He doesn’t demand attention outside of normal hours. You take care of him with what you want to give him, not with what he needs. It’s a type of care that remains under control. A real child, on the other hand, confronts, demands, and exists as a person separate from the one who cares. When this symbolic bond with the reborn baby is taken to the extreme, what we have is not a relationship, but a mirroring, in which the other (the doll in this case) exists only to reaffirm what “I want”, what “I need”. And then, the care stops being an encounter and becomes a monologue. In other words, at extreme levels, the bond with the reborn can be more of a mirror than a relationship per se.

Perhaps what impresses me most about this phenomenon is not just the reborn baby itself, but everything it symbolizes. Because deep down, it is just a mirror of how we often try to build bonds under control. Relationships that do not confront us, that do not demand more than we are willing to give. And this is not only true for our intimate life, it is also true for work.

There are many people leading as if the team were a reborn: without autonomy, without frustration, without contradiction. Where listening to others is too uncomfortable. But the truth is that real teams, like real bonds, are made of tension, exchange, limits and affection.

Reborn is the symbolic image of a care that does not want to be challenged. Of a relationship that does not want to be crossed. And when we bring this to the field of leadership, organizational culture, and teams, it becomes clear how many leaders still prefer relationships that obey, not relationships that grow.

So, is it crazy? Maybe. But maybe not. The right question in my view is “what is this trying to say?” And perhaps even more important than talking about others, we should ask ourselves why we are so moved by this trend. And where, in our own personal or professional lives, have we also chosen predictability over real relationships?

*Milena Brentan is a psychologist and consultant specializing in leadership development and organizational culture. With over 20 years of experience, she has led HR departments at companies such as Airbnb and GPA, and served as an operating partner at venture capital firm Vox Capital. Today, she supports executives and startups in navigating complexities with greater clarity, authenticity, and sustainable results.