Infant is my name

I was born and adopted in Indiana. When I turned eighteen I considered myself an adult.

I could buy a pack of cigarettes.
I could vote for the President.
I could buy a gun.

When I turned twenty-one I could go to a bar.
I could order a drink.
I could get drunk.
But I was never allowed to inquire about my birth origins.

[image error]Original birth certificate.

During my quest to find my birthmother the State of Indiana refused to release any records. After twenty years of scraping information together I finally found my long lost brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, and an 83-year old grandmother. Unfortunately my birthmother had already died thirteen years earlier.

Armed with new information, I contacted the State Board to obtain my original birth certificate. The one I had carried around my whole life was an amended one that was given to my adopted parents.
It said my mother’s name was Martha Watson.
My father’s name was Stoy Watson.
My name was Michael Crit Watson.

I had no purpose for my original birth certificate. I had always lived fine with the fake one but I had a right to the first one. I knew that little slip of paper was archived somewhere in a dark, musty file cabinet in an old Indiana building. I wondered what it said. I knew my birthmother’s name was Betty Price. No one knew who my father was. And I wondered what my birthmother named me.

As a final attempt I asked the State of Indiana to send me a copy of my birth certificate. If they could see me I could prove that I was a responsible adult. After all, I hung a flag in my yard on Independence Day and voted for all the past Presidents. I was thirty-six years old.

I would never give up. I would never forget the love and morals taught to me by my adoptive mother. Although a bottle of Jack Daniels was in the cupboard it would no longer eek from my breath. Cigarette smoke would no longer float motionless above a nasty ashtray as I arranged the puzzle pieces of my life across the kitchen table. A Colt revolver would never be folded in my grip. My name was Michael.

The State of Indiana finally relinquished my birth certificate but with a condition- I would first have to send them my birthmothers death certificate to prove she was dead.

I agreed to their demands in 1994 and my original birth certificate came in the mail one week later. It said-
Mothers Name: Betty Gertrude Price.
Fathers Name: Unknown.
Child’s Name: Infant.