Category: Lauren’s Identity Project (Page 13 of 13)

I’ve always known I was adopted. I don’t ever remember being sat down and told about it, it’s just something I have always known. I was adopted at two days old. My birth parents were only 16 when they had me and as much as they wanted to keep me, they knew that they were just too young and couldn’t handle being parents at that point. My birth mother’s parents were foster parents, and connected with my Mom and Dad when they had attempted to adopt another child that was in their care. That adoption ended up falling through, but when Cheryl (my birth mom) became pregnant she remembered meeting my parents and really liked them. So she decided to make an adoption plan with my parents.

I grew up knowing my adoption story. I knew my birth parents were 16, that their names were Cheryl and Loren. I had pictures of them in the hospital with me that I would look at occasionally, but it was never at the forefront of my mind. My mom and dad were always Kelley and David, they were my “real” parents as so many people attempted to call my birth parents when I told them. When I had questions, my Mom would always do her best to answer in an age appropriate manner. My parents always told me that my biological parents said that they wanted to meet me when I was 18 if I chose to. My Mom and Cheryl sent letters and pictures back and forth for most of my life, and finally when I was 15 I started to become more curious. I asked my Mom if I could read some of those letters from Cheryl that she had deemed to mature for me at the time. She agreed, but said there was something I should know before I read it. Two years after Cheryl and Loren had me, they had another baby at 18. I had a full sister! It was then that we decided it was the right time to pursue a relationship with my biological family.

Before we jumped into anything, my mom, dad, sister, and I went to an adoption counselor. Not only to figure out if it was legal (as in the original contract, it was stated that I had to be 18 to pursue contact) but also to see how everyone would feel about it. My family was incredibly supportive. However it was hard on my younger sister who is also adopted but was too young to connect with her birth family yet. After much conversation, the adoption counselor decided to send a release form to my birth mother to see if she would be willing to send us information. The counselor ended up making a mistake and putting my last name on the release form, which my birth mom didn’t know. My birth sister Tori being a curious 14 year old decided to look me up on myspace. Well, she ended up finding me and the rest is history! I went down to Georgia to visit within a few months of that first initial contact and have since gone down every summer for the past 8 years.

Getting to know my birth family has been a life changing experience. I feel complete after knowing where I came from. I struggled in the beginning with questions on why I was adopted and not Tori who was only born two years later. Now at the age of 24, I am incredibly thankful I was adopted. I see the life my birth family has and as much as I love them, it isn’t easy. Having children at such a young age makes life difficult. I am thankful that my parents were ready and at a stable point in their life when they made the choice to become parents. I got to do things that I never would have been able to do staying with my birth family. I also feel blessed that I not only was raised by such amazing people, but that I do have a relationship with my birth family. I have the best of both worlds and double the people to love me. I’ve been fortunate enough to be very lucky in life.

The holidays are my favorite time of year. Thanksgiving in particular has always been a favorite. Like many families, the Bucciero’s have a unique set of traditions during this holiday. Most of these traditions center around being a large, loud, Italian-American family. Every year countless aunts, uncles, parents, family-friends, godparents, and cousins make the 5 hour drive from various parts of New England back to my Father’s childhood home in Utica, New York to stay with my Papa; the patriarch of the Bucciero family. It’s generally a three day feast with enough food to feed a small nation, and definitely enough to feed the family for a month.

A typical Bucciero Thanksgiving starts with a small road trip. Most of us arrive on Wednesday, but some arrive a day early or a day later depending on everyone’s schedules with work and whatnot. We cook for at least two days prior and many bring a variety of meals and dishes that they had prepared back home, as well as cook much more once we all arrive. On the morning of thanksgiving, we all head to Paul’s Pub for an even bigger reunion. My Papa was the 10th out of 12 children so my Father has about 60 plus first cousins. They all have kids now, and some of them have kids as well, so hundreds of extended Bucciero’s pack into the tiny pub down the street from Papa’s house. Even though I see most of these people every year for Thanksgiving, many of them are still strangers to me. However, we all make sure to squeeze into a family photo by the pool tables every year for as far back as I can remember. After a couple hours of drinking lots of wine by only 11 in the morning, we head back to the house. We then continue to cook for another three hours before finally eating around two. We gather around a small dining room table, where we have to pull out chairs from the kitchen, and even a couple lawn chairs to fit everyone. We first say grace and then all raise our wine glasses and cheers in a uniform “Salute!” We then stuff our faces with turkey, potatoes, sweet potatoes, squash, stuffing, and some foods not as common at a non-Italian thanksgiving like, baked ziti, lasagna, chicken parm, and Italian wedding soup. Then we usually tell stories from our childhoods and have a big, howling laugh together. After it’s over, we all pitch in and pick up our plates, put the food away, wash the dishes, and then precede to pass out in a food coma. We can’t hang around for too long though, because within an hour, the dessert comes out. Every year we have about 10 pies that take up the whole dining room table. Finally, after dessert we all hang around and usually watch a movie together. Then when it’s time for bed, we all crawl into the various bedrooms, onto air mattresses, pull out sofas, and couches where we eventually end the night. Most of us participate in some black Friday madness the next day, and then we all go our separate ways (with piles of leftovers) after church on Sunday. Then, we get together and do it all again at Christmas!

To me, this is what it means to be Italian. Family is everything to us, and our traditions are just as important. I grew up in an extremely close family, my cousins are like siblings and are some of my best friends to this day. I love feeling claustrophobic in my Papa’s small house, I love having to yell in order to be heard, I love seeing 40 years of my family’s heights listed in faded marker on the bathroom door, I love eating homemade Italian food, and I love sharing memories together. It’s been hard as time has gone on to get every single person back home for Thanksgiving. Some people have to work and some are married and have to split their time between two families now. Last Christmas was the first time in years every single person was together, it was very special as that doesn’t happen anymore.  I will always be a proud, strong, Italian woman who values her family more than anything. I hope to someday I’ll get married and my children will get to experience the same kind of family traditions and values that I had growing up. Being a family-oriented Italian woman is part of who I am, and I am proud of that!

One of the most important things about my identity is that I am an animal lover. I grew up visiting my Grandfather’s dairy farm in northern New York and that’s where I fell in love with animals. By the time I was 4, I knew how to milk a cow and bottle feed abandoned kittens. Growing up my mother always let us have a lot of pets, which only furthered my passion for the care and love of animals.

When I got to high school I got the opportunity for a life changing experience. My high school had a program where for one week in March, we got to choose to participate in a program of interest. I chose to go on a trip to Busch Gardens in Florida where my classmates and I got to work behind the scenes with the zookeepers. It was that trip that made me decide that I wanted to work with animals.

Within three years of finishing high school, I completed my associates degree in veterinary technology. After working in a veterinary clinic for a little while, I decided that I wanted to venture out and work with wildlife which is something I always wanted to do. After applying to various internships at zoos across the country, I decided to spend my summer of 2016 in Arizona working at the Wildlife World Zoo and Aquarium. I got to live with my Grandmother and my Aunt, and worked with animals 5 days a week. I worked in four different areas at the zoo. Hoofstock, small mammals, and ponds and carnivores. I got to work with giraffes, a rhino, tigers, lions, bears (oh my!) As well as birds, monkeys, and  porcupines to name a few. It was an incredible experience to work that closely with all these beautiful animals on a daily basis this summer. I also learned a lot!

After my internship, I was accepted to UNE! I am so thrilled to be in the animal behavior program and continuing my education and learning about animals. My love for animals isn’t just my career path, it is something I have and will continue to dedicate my life to as it is one of my greatest passions.

I hated school when I was younger.  As someone with a learning disability, school was incredibly hard. I even questioned if I wanted to go to college after high school, if I would finish school at all. It wasn’t until I started to get passionate about choosing a career that made me think about my future. My senior year of high school I participated in a work study program and it was then that I realized without a college degree I wouldn’t get very far in life. I was always very passionate about animals. I grew up visiting my Grandfather’s farm, and because my Mom was a farmer’s daughter, our house was always filled with a variety of pets. So after volunteering at a veterinary clinic in high school, as well as taking a class trip to Busch Gardens and working behind the scenes with the zookeepers, I decided I wanted to have a career working with animals. I was particularly interested in working with wildlife and conservation.  So after I graduated high school in 2011, I decided to enroll at my local community college and take some general education courses and eventually apply to the veterinary technology program at the school.

After a year and a half of taking general education requirements, I applied to the veterinary technology program. I was one of the 40 students accepted out of the 200+ applicants in the fall of 2013. I believe my volunteer work at the SPCA gave me an edge against other applicants. After two  years of hard work, two internships at different veterinary clinics, and countless hours later, I received my associates degree in veterinary technology in May, 2015. Out of the 40 students originally accepted, only 15 of us graduated. My attitude over those three and a half years towards school completely changed. I actually enjoyed going to class, I loved learning about topics I was passionate about, and seeing people around me drop out from the pressure of the program only made me feel more confident and proud when I walked across stage and received my diploma last year.

I worked in a veterinary hospital for a few months after graduation. I put everything I learned to use. I drew blood, I took x-rays, I assisted in surgery, I performed dentals, I placed IVs, I did intakes, I spoke with clients, I counted pills, and I gave animals lot’s of love! However, I had put my dreams of working with wildlife on the back burner. I had always planned on using my vet tech degree as a stepping stone, where I would eventually transfer to a four year school, and have the medical training that would help me with a future career. So although I loved working as a vet tech, I had to reflect and decide if I really wanted to do that forever. After much debate, I realized, if I don’t go back to school now, I won’t ever. So I applied to the University of New England as the Animal Behavior degree really appealed to me. So after taking a year off, I decided to come back to school and was accepted this fall, 2016. It’s been a hard adjustment getting back into doing homework and going to class after not doing it for so long. However, I’ve quickly adjusted and am doing well in all my classes. One of the hardest things I’ve found is that I am one of the older students. I’m 24 and living in a dorm with other people for the first time, so that has been a huge adjustment. It’s also hard to relate to some of the younger first year students in some of my classes as they are six years younger than me. Overall though, the challenge has been fun. Some days when the stress is really high I question why I ever thought it was a good idea to come back to school, but then I remember how much I love to learn, and how far I’ve come and all I’ve accomplished and that makes it all worth it. I tell myself  “I’ve succeeded in college before, and I will do it again!” Being a student is a huge part of who I am, as it has been my job for most of my life. Education is so important to me and I am happy I made the choice to come back to school, and that I chose UNE!

Last October, my sister came into the living room while my Mother and I were watching TV. She was teary eyed as she asked to speak to my Mother in private first. I didn’t think much of it, but then they come back, both crying. My sister Emily said “Lauren, you’re going to be an aunt.” I was immediately excited and started yelling “OH MY GOD REALLY!? SERIOUSLY!?” It was that moment that I knew I was going to be an aunt and my life, and our family changed forever.

Nine months came and went, and on July 19th, 2016 at 4:47 pm, my niece Aribella Renette Kimball was born. I called out of work as soon as I found out my sister was in labor. I immediately went to the hospital to see her. Four hours later, we were told she needed an emergency C-section. Not long after that, my niece was born. I had learned to sew and made Aribella a pink and blue quilt with her initials embroidered on the silk edge and gave it to my sister and her boyfriend as soon as we were able to see them and meet Aribella. I’ll always remember walking in and seeing my sister hold her little peanut. She was only 5.3 pounds when she was born, so she was tiny! Over the summer before coming to school, our family grew close. Emily and her boyfriend Adam, as well as my new little niece lived at our house with my Mom, Dad, and I. We all pitched in feeding, changing, bathing, and caring for Aribella. Now, she’s a happy, healthy, 3 month old baby. I love her more than anything, and I love seeing her adorable smiling face when I go home on the weekends. I am proud to be an auntie and I am so excited to see Aribella grow and change for the rest of my life.