Well, for those who don't know (or who haven't followed) my story, I came over to the UK on a visa-waiver in April to visit my fiance' for 6 months. I was barely let in by immigration when I arrived, but, after 2 and 1/2 hours of interrogation (and, I use that word because it is an accurate one, LOL) I was told they would let me in but that there was now a report on me and that if I were to return I would have to have a visa or I would not be let in. Fair enough. What a relief. I could stop crying and hyperventilating. The nice lady immigration officer then finally let me in to see The Reason I Breathe.
My now DH and I, at the time, had no idea how to go about the immigration process and were told many dfferent things from sundry people (I think because the process has changed so much in the past few years). Anyway, a friend of mine in the US located this site for me and, HALLELUJAH, we started getting the much needed info we needed.
We found out that we could, indeed, get married while I was here on the visa-waiver, as long as I had every intention of going back to the US and applying for my spousal visa there. So, on September 18th, much to the pleasure of my Mother-in-Law (she REALLY wanted to be at the wedding) - and we now know the good of my Father-in-Law (because just weeks later he was diagnosed with inoperable lung cancer and only given a few months to live), Jamie and I were wed HERE, where his family could come to the civil ceremony and celebrate our union with us (which none of them would have been able to do if we had postponed the wedding until the first of next year and had it in the States, which is what we thought we were going to have to do after the scare at immigration when I arrived). We were all happy, except, of course, not with the fact that I had to return to the States.
The 27th of October was a sad day - the day I had to leave to go back to the States. It was the worst thing that Jamie and I have ever had to go through. When we are not together neither one of us is whole (and someone will accuse us of being co-dependant or unbalanced because of that...but, they just don't get it...and, I am not going to waste my breath trying to explain it to them). We were scared because, as most everyone here knows, the visa process is a daunting one. We were terrified I wouldn't get it. The moment I landed in Orlando and was let through customs, I immediately went to Fed-EX to ship off my visa application and supporting documentation. We had spent my last few weeks here gathering what I needed and filling everything out. After I shipped it off, there was a bit of relief, but not much. I was a stress ball, an emotional wreck.
The jet lag was bad, but all I wanted to do was sleep anyway. All I did when I was awake was cry. Jamie was over here trying to make it through his days, but not faring much better than I. Our whole life was out of our hands now and all we could do was wait for their verdict.
We waited. But, not for long. I sent the application off on Wednesday, and the following Monday I had received my visa! Oh, I could hardly believe it. I kept pinching myself and looking at the visa to make sure it was real (I am sure that many of you have done the same thing). I immediately called The Reason I Breathe to let him know. ARRRGGHHHHH, his phone wasn't charged!
I left an ecstatic message telling him I got it and had to wait for him to get home from work that day and charge up his phone for him to get the message. We cried more tears, but now they were tears of joy.
But, the long night was not over for us yet. We had booked me a flight back for November 27th. Since the application form asks for an itinerary, we obliged. We would have wanted to make an earlier flight back, but we had no idea how long it would take them to process my app. If we had known that it was only going to take a few days...well, needless to say, we would have made the flight back for right after getting it! We missed each other so. We were both walking around incomplete and miserable. He would call me crying and we would cry together. We looked into changing the flight (which was already a $700 dollar one-way flight), but the price to change it was exorbant and - again - we had to wait...
I spent the time with my family - as we had planned, but I wasn't all there... The Saturday after Thanksgiving I started to feel alive again. I was going home. In 7 or so hours I would be in Jamie's arms again...I would be whole again....I could breathe without pain, at last, again.
The flight was fine, as those long flights in coach go. I got no sleep, but that is typical for me; I cannot sleep sitting up. I didn't care. I was going home.
The plane landed in Gatwick just after 7:00 AM and I rushed to pick up my carry-on and big coat, then joined the line of people making their way out of the plane, on to the bus from the gate to the main airport, and on to ~~dramatic music here~~ immigration!
I believe that I was one of two people on that entire packed flight that was American. There was no line at the "everyone other than UK and European Passport holders" line. No line at all....it was just me.
I took a breath and went up there to the desk. I had forgotten that I needed to fill out the landing card. Stupid me, I thought if I had a visa I didn't need one. The immigration officer looked at me like I was an idiot...and, I would have felt like one if I hadn't been so tired from the flight. I decided I deserved a break (which is a rarety for me, I am my own worst critic...in fact, I have been known to declare that I hate myself...but, this day, this one day, I deserved a bloody break)! With a sigh (that was to say "These Americans"
) she handed me a landing card and I quickly filled it out. She took it - and my passport - and told me to have a seat and wait. My gut jumped to my throat. I thought, "here we go again. This isn't supposed to happen this time. I have the VISA!" I managed to keep from crying and prayed instead. Wonder of wonders.
While I had been up at the desk, before she had gone off with my passport, she had asked me where my husband was. I said that he was here - at the airport - to pick me up. She asked, "Have you ever had any trouble with immigration before?" I wasn't sure how to answer this question. I had had trouble as far as being interviewed before being let in last time, but I had not had trouble as far as finally being allowed to come in and stay for 6 months. I responded with, "No".
As I sat there praying, waiting, and trying not to cry, I wondered if that had been the wrong answer.
It was only a few minutes (which felt like an eternity at the time) when she returned and called me back to the desk. I will remember that desk. Desk 11. She asked me, pointedly this time, whether the last time I had been there if I had just been let in or had I been interviewed first. I smiled and said, "Yes, I was interviewed and told at that time that I could come in but were I to return I would have to have a proper visa to enter. And so, I went back, applied for, and received my visa". She asked me when I had gotten married. I told her. She asked me
where I'd gotten married. I told her. She then said, "The problem is, at the time, you told the immigration officer who interviewed you that you were not going to get married here".
Well, I had done that...because, at the time, she had told me I couldn't or shouldn't (or some such thing as that). I had said, "my fiance' and I didn't know what was entailed with me coming here and being married here. If we can't, then obviously we won't." We, of course, found out later that it was perfectly legal for the two of us to marry here. I did not say that, however....well ~~sly smile~~ Not in so many words, anyway.
I replied, "We hadn't planned on getting married here" (which was true, after the scare we had thought we would have to wait and marry in the states and so we had started to make plans in that direction) "but, my husband's father was unfortunately diagnosed with inoperable lung cancer and given only a short time to live. So, after finding out that
we could get married here as long as I went back to get my visa in the States, we married here so that he (Jamie's father) could see his son get married." She gave an affirmative "uh huh". She then asked if I had any kids. I told her. She asked if they would be joining me. I said no. She asked if they were alright with that. I replied with the affirmative. She asked how often I saw them. I told her and explained that they were settled in school where they are, living with their father, and I didn't want to take them out of that school. I got another affirmative "uh huh" out of her. She then stamped my passport, wished me good luck, and I was through!
~~whew~~
And, after all that, I managed to get through to my Jamie before quite a number of the British citizens who were on the same flight had made it through the line and retrieved their luggage.
I located my checked bag as quickly as I could, grabbed the heavy thing, and made my way to the lobby area where The Reason I Breathe was waiting for me. I ran into his arms and he took me away from there as fast as we could go. We had both seen too much of Gatwick to last more than one lifetime.
I am now home. We are now both crying tears of joy and such utter relief that only tears can express. There are no words that are adequate.
Thanks again to everyone here at UKY who gave me info and encouragement. You guys have been great!
~Autumn
