Taken From The Cradle (eBook)

Unveiling a Black-Market Baby Ring; Conquering Walls to Unearth the Truth

Devorah Lee (Autor)

eBook Download: EPUB

2024 | 1. Auflage
176 Seiten
Bookbaby (Verlag)
979-8-3509-3221-8 (ISBN)

'Taken from the Cradle' is a lifelong struggle to find who Devorah really is. What happened when she was taken from the cradle and where she had been dropped off at a police station, only to fall into the hands of a Black-Market Baby Ring the day she was born in 1952.

The inspiration for "e;Taken From the Cradle"e; is to convey a story of hope and encouragement, whatever you're going through, especially searching for family. The message is "e;don't give up!"e; There was absolutely nothing to go on, yet through perseverance and sheer determination, the truth prevailed. There were gigantic walls to cause discouragement, many a tear shed, the heart broken countless times, yet through it all, wall after wall, brick after brick, those impossible walls were conquered. Growing up, even as a very young child, she felt she didn't belong. She was lied to about it all and never told the truth. Yet her deep, inward feeling that she did not belong never let up. Her intuition was strong and unwavering. Then, something happened when she was 55 that turned her world around. Unbelievable feats were accomplished, and her lifelong dream of truth was unveiled. This story will hopefully provide courage, stamina, and fortitude to carry your search for truth to its fulfillment. It won't be easy, but it will be so worthwhile! Never forget, YOU HAVE THE RIGHT TO KNOW!

PREFACE

The Truth Revealed

Where did I come from? What is my ethnicity? What is my biological family’s heritage? All my life, I had asked, “Am I adopted?” Somehow, I felt like I was, but I had been denied the truth—it was a big, blank, dark, mysterious hole until I was fifty-five.

It was on 9/11 (of all dates!) of 2015 when a photograph of my birth mother, Winifred Lipsey, was placed before me. It was like looking into a mirror!

Eight years earlier, in 2007, a truth had been revealed to me that represented validation beyond belief.

My name has been legally changed a few times! When I discovered my birth certificate in 2015, the name on it was Baby Lipsey. The day I was born, I was taken stolen and placed in the home of Dolus and Ursula Shens, who named me Debra Lee Shen. In 1999, while living in Israel, I had my first name changed to Devorah. Devorah is the Hebrew origin of Debra. In 2020, I once again changed my name through the Charleston County, South Carolina, courts, legally eliminating Shen to become Devorah Aqua Lee. It was a difficult decision to use the name Lee because that name was used by two of the most dreadful people who were involved in my distressing story. I fretted over this for weeks on end. I finally determined that, from day one, my name had Lee in it even though Ursula Lee Shen and Lucy Lowe also had that name, one as a middle name and one as a married last name. For reasons I’ll go into later in this story, using either of my biological parents last names wasn’t feasible. I finally felt okay with using my middle name as my name and adding a brand-new middle name. It was as if I was reinventing myself and, at the same time, staying true to my origin.

As I stated before, I insisted I was adopted from early in my childhood. I don’t know where I got such a notion, but somehow, intuitively, I just knew. When I brought this up to the Shens, my presumed parents, they consistently flared back at me, saying I was out of my mind,” or that I had “something very wrong with my mind and thinking! They also made many other disturbing comments about “How crazy my thinking was” or how idiotic it was to say such a thing. These words radiated through my core all my life, to the point that I bought into the lies, believing I might actually have something wrong with me, as they had drilled into me. Maybe they were right, despite my strong instinct otherwise!

I never really got along with the Shens. Now I can see that I threatened their closely guarded secret to such a degree that they didn’t know how to handle me. They never demonstrated the slightest compassion or empathy for my feelings, only protected their deceit.

Often, to my own surprise, I told my presumed sister, Suellen, that she was also adopted, although she did resemble Ursula a lot. Sometimes I wondered why or where I got such a notion! I even accused myself of being cruel for saying these things to her. It just popped out; she’d cry and run to Ursula, tattling, which typically resulted in pretty harsh punishment for me. Yet I repeated this assertion often through the years, all while wondering what was wrong with me to even think such a thing, much less utter those words. It turns out I was right about both of us.

Suellen and I realized early in our lives that we both had suspicious-looking birth certificates. There wasn’t any way to get to the bottom of this until after the Shens, our so-called parents died! They had both locked these secrets in an impenetrable vault and ensured the few relatives who knew the truth were sworn to secrecy. Being honest with us didn’t matter, only that their secret was stowed away forever. I had a right to know my truth and where I came from.

In 2007, as Ursula was on her deathbed, while alone with her, my daughter pleaded with her so-called grandmother to tell her if I had been adopted. Unbeknownst to me, a cousin-in-law, Nettie, who married one of Lucy’s grandsons, had told my daughter that she knew Suellen and I were both adopted, but my daughter wanted proof before telling us. While Ursula was at death’s door, with only a day or so to live, my daughter sought to finally get the truth from the only mother I had known before mentioning this vital information to anyone. Suellen and I were in other rooms, as we took shifts sitting with Ursula. Hospice had informed us that her death was near.

When my daughter, who was very close to Ursula, asked her these questions, this feeble, dying woman became riled up and went from a frail state to a furious, aggressive one. My daughter said she even rose in bed, angry about the questions. She was in a rage, my daughter said later. She sat up from foaming at the mouth, in a dying state, to sheer fury. As it turned out, she passed away without revealing a thing! She took it to her grave, as had Dolus, the so-called father when he died in 2002.

After we buried Ursula in Jacksonville, Florida, and once we were on the ride home to South Carolina, my daughter told me this shocking news, which she had unsuccessfully tried to confirm. I had mixed emotions. On one hand, I was glad that what I had believed and felt my entire life might be true. I was elated because, finally, this was validation that I was not crazy or out of my mind, as they had drilled into me all my life. On the other hand, it had been only hours since we had placed Ursula in her grave. I had hardly had time to grieve, and now all of this was erupting. My world felt upside down!

I am a fanatical truth-seeker and I had to face this immediately.

I waited to discuss this with my sister, however. I kept thinking that we had just buried Ursula, and to learn all of this just hours later would overwhelm Suellen. On the second day after returning home to South Carolina, I went for a bike ride in order to sort everything out and figure out how to move forward and confirm this information. Since my early childhood, cycling has always been my escape or way of coping with intense stress.

While on the bike ride, nearing ten miles from home, I stopped to rest and called my sister, who lived in Kentucky. I told her what my daughter had learned from Nettie, although I didn’t tell her this was also about her; I mentioned only myself. I felt I should confirm it was true about me before upsetting her. She became furious at receiving only half the information and emphatically shouted that it was not true, that it was ridiculous, and she was going to call Nettie right away to ask why she had told my daughter such lies. She was outraged. I’d never seen her quite so worked up and so highly agitated.

A short time later, I received a call while still far from home. It was my brother-in-law yelling at me, calling me a bitch! I could hear Suellen wailing loudly in the background and screaming in sheer agony. It wasn’t like her to be so radically upset or display her emotions this way. I was thrown for a loop! Why was he calling me a bitch? What had I done? This was alarming, horrifying, and very disturbing!

I froze in my tracks, paralyzed. Every cell in my body had experienced an alarming jolt. I didn’t feel I could safely ride home at this point. I was shaking and numb. It was too overwhelming. Too shocking! Then, after what seemed like a short time, Suellen called me, sobbing uncontrollably. I sat on the curb, waiting until she could speak without gasping and hysterically wailing. Finally she settled down and said it was true! We were both adopted.

I was devastated to have this confirmed; it was true that both of us had been adopted. For years, I thought it was a mistake about her being adopted too. At least part of me tried to convince myself that it was. Suellen’s round face and dark hair resembled Ursula’s. They shared mannerisms and personality traits. I had blonde hair and a longer, oval-shaped face, though. So it was hard to believe Suellen; although I knew intuitively that she too was adopted, I had received many belt whippings for saying so. It was one of those things you struggle with yourself about. Part of me believes one thing, and part of me dismisses it. I had been fighting that battle all my life. I seemed to know from the depths of me, yet my conscious mind had been beaten down to believe that I was out of my mind. This turmoil resulted in a lifetime of second-guessing myself. I never fully trusted my gut. I had severe insecurities about realizing my potential and being secure in who I was. It did a number on me, all the years of their reinforcing how idiotic I was to think such a thing—a definite case of mind control.

So here I was, with this earth-shattering news, on my bicycle ten miles from home and frozen in time! I felt like my blood had just stopped flowing—no circulation––not even my lungs seemed to work. This out-of-body experience felt like when, several times as a kid, I had climbed high up in trees and sometimes fell from the tree, knocking the wind out of me. Unable to speak, just literally in a suspended state. I had been stunned when he called me a bitch. Then Suellen had called back and I had realized why I had heard her wailing and horrifying, wrenching crying.

Despite this consequential news, I had to ask why he called me a bitch. She responded that he wasn’t aware of what I had said. He assumed I had said it included her. His misunderstanding caused profound anxiety for me at a terrible, critical time.

I don’t think I’ll ever forget or understand how this happened, although I recognize he was mainly protecting his wife....

Erscheint lt. Verlag	17.1.2024
Sprache	englisch
Themenwelt	Literatur ► Biografien / Erfahrungsberichte
ISBN-13	979-8-3509-3221-8 / 9798350932218

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