We didn't hear back that week.
We went into week 16 filled with hope and frustration. Cayden went back to checking his email every 7 seconds and I went back to asking Cayden to check his email every 7 seconds. I called Congressman Pete Session's office. His assistant called me back and said it was still in additional processing. I thanked her and asked her where the nearest baby unicorn was so I could punch it.
I fell asleep with my phone in my hand and woke up in the same position. I told Cayden to call me the moment he got the email, even if it was 3 am in Texas. Every time my phone rang for our normal morning phone calls, my heart would skip a beat. Maybe this would be the call.
Hey, baby. I'm out a the pub for lunch so I can't call during our normal time, but I'll try to call you a little bit later.
I hated when our schedules didn't sync up. Sometimes we only got one phone call a day, so if we missed it, we might not get to talk until the next day. And sometimes that made my blood boil. This was going to be one of those days. I hit reply:
I'm going into work early, so we probably won't get to have our phone call today :(
It was the week after we'd returned from our honeymoon and I was still playing catch up at work. It didn't help that my director was about to be on maternity leave.
I drove to work in a crappy mood. I'd woken up thinking it was Friday, but then realized it was only Thursday AND I didn't get to have my morning call with Cayden. Everyone on the road was being as asshole and the commercials on the radio made me want to track down the Mattress Giant's President Christine Cook and shake her as hard as physically possible until she promised she'd never record another commercial as long as she lived.
Just leaving the pub. Is it too late to call?
I was walking into my office building and contemplated sitting outside for a quick call, but then decided I'd just take the call at my desk because no one would be in the office yet anyway.
I can talk for a bit.
I was trying to keep my bad attitude out of my text message, but I was peeved.
"Hey baby," he said when I picked up the phone. His voice immediately soothed my nerves.
"Hey, how was your pub lunch?" I tried to keep my voice down because my coworker Olsen was already plugging away at this desk.
"Well, I think I had one too man drinks. I feel a little buzzed."
"Why are you drunk before 2pm on a Thursday? Don't you have to go back to work?" I was confused. Was it actually Friday? The thought perked me up.
"Well, I was celebrating," he said. I could hear the smile in his voice.
"Celebrating what? That it's Friday? Is it Friday? Oh my god, I have no idea what day it is. I give up." I threw my hands up and jabbed the power button on my laptop.
"Celebrating the email. I got the email."
I typed my password into my computer and waited for it to start up. It took a full five seconds before I realized what Cayden had said. The email. THE email. THE EMAIL??
"YOU WHAT?" I demanded.
"I GOT THE EMAIL," he yelled into the phone. "THE email!"
My jaw dropped. Tears sprung to my eyes. I couldn't move. I couldn't respond.
"Are you there?" he asked.
"Yeah," I choked out, thick with tears. It all came rushing over me. All of the emotions. All of the waiting. All of the additional processing. All of the frustrations. Tears splattered against my keyboard and I didn't bother to wipe them up.
"Why didn't you call me???" I demanded. Olson popped his head up from his cube to check on me. I gave him a thumbs up, despite my tears disheveled appearance. He had gathered enough context from my end of the conversation to know what had just happened. His eyes lit up with genuine happiness and relief.
"I didn't want to wake you," Cayden laughed. "Can you believe it?.... Whitney, are you there?"
I was battling the silent tears. I tried to respond but I couldn't figure out how to make my vocal cords function. I was speechless. I was stunned. I may have even been in some form of shock. I just nodded against the phone and hoped he could hear it.
"Aww, baby, don't cry."
"I'm trying not to," I lied. I didn't have the emotional strength to even attempt to stop those tears.
"What did the email say," I asked, when I could find the words.
"That they're ready to process my visa and that I need to call the courrier to come get my passport. From that point, I should get my passport back with my visa within 9 days!"
It was Thursday, August 2nd. Exactly 16 weeks since his visa had been refused. In nine days he'd have it in his hand. Nine days until forever.
"But it does say that it still may need more additional processing," he added. "But I think they have to put that in everyone's email, just as a precaution. I already called the courrier and they're picking my passport up tomorrow. Baby... it's finally happening."
"How the hell am I supposed to work today? I need to go home! I need to start replanning our wedding! I need to buy men's body wash for our shower! I need to clean. I have so much to do!"
It's safe to say I was losing my damn mind.
Cayden laughed at my emotional breakdown. I laughed, too, and then I stepped outside to call everyone and anyone who would listen. Starting with my mom.
"MOM? HE GOT THE EMAIL!"