oh, happy day ...

Over the past couple of weeks, in amongst trying to figure out carpet, light fittings and kitchen design (absolutely no idea about any of these things, by the way, despite the hours spent looking and deliberating), D and I have been snowed under masses of paper trying to finalise his next round of visa paperwork  His initial visa was only valid for nine months, and now that we are married we had to go through the joy of what felt like fifty thousand more forms and questions and also go about proving to the Department of Immigration that we are in fact for real.  They wanted to know about our finances, our shared interests, our plans for the future, and who does what around the house.  We wrote all about our wedding, our bank accounts, our apartment and our renovations, our travel plans and our talk of babies.  We told them about how I wash the dishes and D dries them, and how D marvels at the fact that I actually hang our laundry out on the clothes line rather than using the dryer all the time.  What we do on weekends and who we see.  It felt like absolutely everything was under the microscope, which I suppose it was.  The perfectionist lawyer in me was stressing out about having it all just so.  And eventually, it was.

So at around lunchtime last Friday, we dropped in at the Department to file our perfectly perfect application, which was about two centimetres thick.  We approached the Filing Guy and handed it over.  D asked how long processing would take.  Filing Guy had clearly heard this question oh, a billion times before and kind of sternly said "eighteen months.  We are very busy right now" whilst stamping various forms within the bundle as having been received.  He then casually tossed our perfectly perfect application into a big plastic box behind the counter and announced "that's it."  Not wanting to push our luck, we took the hint, said thank you and goodbye, and left.

All weekend we fretted that our application had fallen to pieces in that box and something would go missing (I had read somewhere that the Department doesn't like staples, so it was just full of clips).  But then yesterday (Monday), we received confirmation that our application had been received for processing and that D had been granted a bridging visa to allow him to stay in the interim.  We were super happy to receive this.  Everything felt on track, and we figured we would hear something when we hear something.  In eighteen months.

{this is the part where I start to use copious amounts of exclamation marks}

This morning (Tuesday) I was sitting at my desk and glanced at my phone.  I saw an email from the Department with the subject "grant notification letter."  My heart practically exploded out of my chest.  I thought - NO FREAKIN' WAY!  With shaking hands and almost unable to breathe, I opened the attachment as quickly as I could (always a challenge on the iPhone, especially when losing one's shit).  I had to read the letter about five times to be sure, but there it was.  I opened it up on my computer to check again in case I had somehow lost my mind/comprehension skills.  It still said the same thing.  Visa granted!  In three days!!!  I immediately called D at home.  I let it ring for ages, but he didn't pick up.  I was bursting.  I sent him a Skype message (it's kind of funny to me that we still use Skype) - "please call me ASAP!!!!!"  My phone rang a few moments later.  It was D.  He hadn't answered the phone because the cat was sitting on his lap.  Oh, that cat.  Anyway, we then had a ridiculous conversation that largely consisted of "oh my God" and "three days!" and "I can't believe it!"  and "that's so awesome!"  D said "I wish you were here so I could hug you right now!"  So sweet.  I can't wait to get home and claim that hug!  We are so excited!  So, you know, yay!

And that's really all I wanted to share :)