Today Rob and I enter round three with the American Embassy in London. Twice we have submitted his passport for his visa and twice it has been kicked back to us: more information required. Our lawyer will be having a conference call with my mother as soon as the sun rises on the west coast – they need her financial documents, further to my step-dad’s which they already have.
I have to believe that this time it will go okay. I have to believe that this time it will be approved. I have to believe that it won’t come back again with the same message: more information required. Without clinging to this belief I would have no firm ground to stand on. We have six weeks left. Six weeks until we fly. We shipped nearly all of our belongings today. The house feels hollowed out and empty. It was meant to be a joyous day, Rob’s visa arrives the day we ship everything. It feels like we are cutting it close and it makes me want to punch something. We applied as early as you legally can and still we wait, hoping against hope that it is approved before we fly.
When I tell people we are having issues with the visa process they seem confused. You are married, doesn’t Rob just get rubber stamped? If only it were that easy. It is hard for me not to spiral into thoughts of what if he never gets accepted. I don’t know what we do at that point. I can’t legally stay here and he can’t legally be there. I legally have to leave the day we are meant to fly. So what? We get divorced? We try again? We live apart?
So here I sit, waiting, as it always seems, for the west coast to wake up.