Déjà vu

Remember that time I had my adoption records opened? Chirping birds flew in my window and they started singing that Tra-la-la-la-la La-la-la-la-la song. Outside the heavens opened up and bright sun beams shined down all over the planet. I remained composed of course, because I was somewhat busy being shell-shocked by an event that took some 43 years to transpire. But I took some comfort in it all because my waiting on this information was also consequential to the fact that my very life depended on it. I was hoping -- praying -- that I would be able to use this information to help me enroll in my Indian tribe. Because, you see, that's what it was all about to begin with -- getting enrolled.
That first week while Lois and the girls and I took time to process this all, we realized that we still didn't have my original birth certificate and so we set about to take care of this. I should actually say that Lois did, and through much effort, frustrating phone calls and a lot of determination, the bridge was hurdled. On Monday last, Lois Fed Exed the certified court order the judge issued and they sent us a copy of my original birth certificate back by the end of the week.
On Friday morning Lois called me at work and said, "I got it!" For the second time within a couple of months the heavens parted and the birds sang. I held my breath as Lois spoke to me. The first thing she said was that there was something weird about it all.
"What's that mean?" I thought to myself.
And before I could ask her she said, "The name's on your birth certificate don't match the names on your adoption records."
"What names?" I asked.
"All of them!" she said. "They're all different except for yours. Your name is the only one that is the same."

(insert Perry Mason music here) "WTH?"

After another month of waiting for a name that would tie me to the tribe, everything changed. The names of both of my birth parents in my adoption records didn't match my parents' name on my birth certificate. The only name that was the same was my father's last name; but not his first. And my mom's name was entirely different, though slightly similar. She wasn't a minor as was reported in the adoption records. She was almost 30.
I cannot imagine how any of this is possible. What happened all those years ago? As I try to wrap my head around the thought that this could be a clerical error, all I see is stars; blinding flashes of light that make me blind. How could any of this have happened? The only thing that makes any sense to me is the fact that my mom signed her name on the birth certificate.
So why doesn't her name match on the adoption records?

(to be continued)