emmasma
Well-known member
OK so this doesn't have much to do with my as accept that The last year has helped me a lot, because I have real problems now that make it seem less important, its like I have something to take my mind off it. Anyway I kind of just want to vent cuz I can't tell anyone and it's eating me up.
A few years ago I started dating my husband, he is from Guatemala, and was waiting to become a resident here in the United States. His father is a citizen, so he already had papers filed. He asked me to marry him, and I said yes. We talked to his immigration lawyer and he told us not to get married until his papers were done, because it would change his status form single, to married and he could loose them and he could be deported. We didn't know how much longer it would be, it had already been 5 years, and we wanted to start our lives. We decided to "be married" (but not officially) and said our vows. We decided to have a baby.
A few weeks later he had to go to an immigration appointment in Detroit, about 3 hours away, he had to go to these every 6 months or so, just to check in while waiting. Anyway, the car broke down, and we were 2 hours late. By the time we got there they had filed for deportation. The lady just told us and shut the window, wouldn’t explain or anything. The security guard had to explain that papers would be in the mail in a few months at which point we could contest the decision. Exactly 2 days later we found out I was pregnant.
When the papers came I was 6 months along. It was an order for him to show up with up to 30 pounds of personal items, to be deported on a date about 2 weeks away. I was devastated anyway the layer filed an appeal and they didn't deport him, although we still went there on the date. He was put on probation be cause he was "undeportable" and we had to go to Detroit each month. Each time was terrifying, because we didn't know if they would let him leave. His appeal was denied, even though we had the repair slips and car rental receipts as evidence, the judge didn't believe our story. We filed 2 more appeals, which were denied as well. The next step was federal court. During this time I had a beautiful baby girl, and we had a happy family. It's so funny that this is my life, like I'm not waiting for my life anymore, this is my family and my life, I’m a real grownup now even though I don't feel like it. Any way in December of '04 when we went, his deportation officer, Officer Wong, wasn't there, another guy redid his work permit, and stuff and let him leave, but he made me nervous, he was young and very arrogant and he made an appointment for us to come see officer Wong a month later, on Jan 5 '05 the day of our daughters 1ST birthday.
When we arrived this day we were told that Officer Wong was not our man anymore, that it was this other guy (the arrogant one) he said that Manuel wasn't "undeportable" anymore because this wasn’t his first appeal, Officer Wong was there and tried to stop him, but he deported him anyway. That’s how I know that it was his personal decision, and I have real hate in my heart now. Everyday I think about what I would say to this man if I ever saw him. Truthfully I probly wouldn’t say any thing at all; just get all nervous and stuttery and go cry. I got to see Manuel once more in a prison holding tank a week later before they shipped him out, but not again for nearly a year.
That was the setup. What followed was the most crazy year ever.
My dad is an old hippy hermit. He has social issues of his own, but doesn’t see it that way, we don’t talk about that kind of stuff. He’s been sitting in his chair smoking away his lungs and brain on hand rolled cigarettes and his own “homegrown”. He is very smart, and very bitter, with society, government, military, exc.. I was worried about him, but didn’t know what to say. Emma is my parent’s first grandchild, I could feel my family “healing”, becoming less angry and the cloud seemed to be lifting, I was most happy to see my dad playing with her. He and my mom even talked about moving to Guatemala if Manuel was deported. They talked about taking a vacation to Washington DC to talk to senators on our behalf. I didn’t like this idea, didn’t think senators would even agnoledge 2 crazy old hippies. When Manuel was deported, we thought we would have to move to Guatemala, live in real poverty and not have money to visit home. I thought that I would only see my parents literally on a few short visits before they died.
When Manuel was still in custody, my mom told me on the phone that my dad would be going to D.C. . I didn’t have the strength to argue, I dropped off donuts for the trip, and told him to be good. The next day I went to get a tooth pulled, I got home and took my meds, and my mom called, my dad was in front of the White House refusing to leave his truck. Our road was blocked off, media was everywhere and they were setting up a satellite radio in the front lawn so she could talk to him. The FBI were on their way to my house to talk to me. Our house, our stange house that my dad built and we lived in was on breaking news throughout the world. My dad was in his dirty old ford van, in the national capital, in front of The White House, and had apparently threatened to blow himself up if they didn’t release his son. To make matters worse my Dish network had been turned off on that very morning due to nonpayment, and I had no TV. I couldn’t stay here with no TV and my mom was taking the phone off the hook, cuz the media was calling and calling, they were calling relatives, who knew nothing about it all, and they were calling. I went to my moms, and by the time I got there he had given himself up peacefully (after 4 hours); they let me through the police barricades, and soon after took them down. For the next 2 weeks he made news all over the world. We stayed locked up in our house, which people now call The Compound, and the reporters were relentless. We didn’t talk to them at all, lawyers said not to. On the 4th day I held a “press conference” at a local restraint to tell our story. I came off awkward and scared, and they only showed what they wanted to make their point, regret that, get sick when I think about it.
Visited Manuel in the detention center in Detroit, on Sunday he was shipped out the next morning at 4am turned around and drove to DC with my mom for my dad’s pretrial. The media hounded us there too.http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/articles/A36552-2005Jan25.html
Was subpoenaed a few weeks later with mom, had to return to DC and testified in front of a grand jury. 1st was gilled about my dad and every thing in a small room by the prosecution, then had to sit in a chair with a microphone, in front of about 30 people (remember I do have sp) and answer difficult questions under oath. It was weird.
Anyway he got a plea bargain in the end, 3 years, but he almost lost it tying to be philosophical for the judge. He does got balls http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2005/06/30/AR2005063001743_pf.html
I had been a stay at home mom, but I went back to work, where I have worked for nearly 10 years as a waitress, and where my mom has worked all my life, where I met Manuel, and some of his brother father and uncle work there too. I needed work; they worked with my hours so my mom could baby-sit. It was even more awkward than before now that I’m “famous”. Filed a fiancé visa for Manuel, waited a year for an interview at the consulate. My mom played for my daughter and I so visit him in December. In-laws are hard for me, especially in broken Spanish, It was an awkward month, but I was glad to see him.
We went to his interview, but he couldn’t finish if cuz they needed a police report, which takes 3 weeks, and then needed to file a waiver of ineligibility, because he had been deported. The waiver takes 6-8 months. He filed 5 months ago. We haven’t seen him since December. Everyday at least 5 people ask me when he comes home, usually the same ones and its annoying.
This is it thought, when this waiver is done, we will know. If it is good, he can come home, we will live comfortable, low income American lives, and spend the winters in Guatemala. If it is bad we will live there. He will work 15 hours a day, for about 5 hours a day; I will be at home with the kids in a foreign land. It is very beautiful there, and I can deal with all that, but how will I ever see my parents again? Certainly that $5 a day won’t pay for much airfare. Will my dad even be aloud on planes to visit us? I think not! When this waiver comes back we can begin our lives, one-way or the other. I think about it every day and I’m terrified.
The waiver is ready now. I talked to him on Wednesday and he had just received a call from the embassy. He can go in this Wednesday or Thursday morning to get the results, and finish the interview. This is it, we will know on Wednesday. He wants to surprise his family here, so I can’t tell anyone at work (which are the only people I ever talk to). Also if it is denied we don’t want people to know. It’s possible he could come back illegally to earn some money for a few years, that way we can at least have a decent house. I can’t even bear the thought of it being denied. I need this to be done, so we can get on with life, but I wont be OK right now if it is denied. These whole 5 months, I haven’t let myself think of this. I’ve just been waiting anxiously for the approval, but now? I’m bursting at the seems, because this is the one thing I really want to talk about but I can’t! To top it all off I’m working 2 extra days this week so that’s almost double the “hay when’s your boy friend coming home?” questions!
Anyway if read this whole thing then, wow, thanks for listening! I feel a little better; I don’t think I’ve ever told the story all at once before. I’d like to write a book about it, so maybe this is a start.
A few years ago I started dating my husband, he is from Guatemala, and was waiting to become a resident here in the United States. His father is a citizen, so he already had papers filed. He asked me to marry him, and I said yes. We talked to his immigration lawyer and he told us not to get married until his papers were done, because it would change his status form single, to married and he could loose them and he could be deported. We didn't know how much longer it would be, it had already been 5 years, and we wanted to start our lives. We decided to "be married" (but not officially) and said our vows. We decided to have a baby.
A few weeks later he had to go to an immigration appointment in Detroit, about 3 hours away, he had to go to these every 6 months or so, just to check in while waiting. Anyway, the car broke down, and we were 2 hours late. By the time we got there they had filed for deportation. The lady just told us and shut the window, wouldn’t explain or anything. The security guard had to explain that papers would be in the mail in a few months at which point we could contest the decision. Exactly 2 days later we found out I was pregnant.
When the papers came I was 6 months along. It was an order for him to show up with up to 30 pounds of personal items, to be deported on a date about 2 weeks away. I was devastated anyway the layer filed an appeal and they didn't deport him, although we still went there on the date. He was put on probation be cause he was "undeportable" and we had to go to Detroit each month. Each time was terrifying, because we didn't know if they would let him leave. His appeal was denied, even though we had the repair slips and car rental receipts as evidence, the judge didn't believe our story. We filed 2 more appeals, which were denied as well. The next step was federal court. During this time I had a beautiful baby girl, and we had a happy family. It's so funny that this is my life, like I'm not waiting for my life anymore, this is my family and my life, I’m a real grownup now even though I don't feel like it. Any way in December of '04 when we went, his deportation officer, Officer Wong, wasn't there, another guy redid his work permit, and stuff and let him leave, but he made me nervous, he was young and very arrogant and he made an appointment for us to come see officer Wong a month later, on Jan 5 '05 the day of our daughters 1ST birthday.
When we arrived this day we were told that Officer Wong was not our man anymore, that it was this other guy (the arrogant one) he said that Manuel wasn't "undeportable" anymore because this wasn’t his first appeal, Officer Wong was there and tried to stop him, but he deported him anyway. That’s how I know that it was his personal decision, and I have real hate in my heart now. Everyday I think about what I would say to this man if I ever saw him. Truthfully I probly wouldn’t say any thing at all; just get all nervous and stuttery and go cry. I got to see Manuel once more in a prison holding tank a week later before they shipped him out, but not again for nearly a year.
That was the setup. What followed was the most crazy year ever.
My dad is an old hippy hermit. He has social issues of his own, but doesn’t see it that way, we don’t talk about that kind of stuff. He’s been sitting in his chair smoking away his lungs and brain on hand rolled cigarettes and his own “homegrown”. He is very smart, and very bitter, with society, government, military, exc.. I was worried about him, but didn’t know what to say. Emma is my parent’s first grandchild, I could feel my family “healing”, becoming less angry and the cloud seemed to be lifting, I was most happy to see my dad playing with her. He and my mom even talked about moving to Guatemala if Manuel was deported. They talked about taking a vacation to Washington DC to talk to senators on our behalf. I didn’t like this idea, didn’t think senators would even agnoledge 2 crazy old hippies. When Manuel was deported, we thought we would have to move to Guatemala, live in real poverty and not have money to visit home. I thought that I would only see my parents literally on a few short visits before they died.
When Manuel was still in custody, my mom told me on the phone that my dad would be going to D.C. . I didn’t have the strength to argue, I dropped off donuts for the trip, and told him to be good. The next day I went to get a tooth pulled, I got home and took my meds, and my mom called, my dad was in front of the White House refusing to leave his truck. Our road was blocked off, media was everywhere and they were setting up a satellite radio in the front lawn so she could talk to him. The FBI were on their way to my house to talk to me. Our house, our stange house that my dad built and we lived in was on breaking news throughout the world. My dad was in his dirty old ford van, in the national capital, in front of The White House, and had apparently threatened to blow himself up if they didn’t release his son. To make matters worse my Dish network had been turned off on that very morning due to nonpayment, and I had no TV. I couldn’t stay here with no TV and my mom was taking the phone off the hook, cuz the media was calling and calling, they were calling relatives, who knew nothing about it all, and they were calling. I went to my moms, and by the time I got there he had given himself up peacefully (after 4 hours); they let me through the police barricades, and soon after took them down. For the next 2 weeks he made news all over the world. We stayed locked up in our house, which people now call The Compound, and the reporters were relentless. We didn’t talk to them at all, lawyers said not to. On the 4th day I held a “press conference” at a local restraint to tell our story. I came off awkward and scared, and they only showed what they wanted to make their point, regret that, get sick when I think about it.
Visited Manuel in the detention center in Detroit, on Sunday he was shipped out the next morning at 4am turned around and drove to DC with my mom for my dad’s pretrial. The media hounded us there too.http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/articles/A36552-2005Jan25.html
Was subpoenaed a few weeks later with mom, had to return to DC and testified in front of a grand jury. 1st was gilled about my dad and every thing in a small room by the prosecution, then had to sit in a chair with a microphone, in front of about 30 people (remember I do have sp) and answer difficult questions under oath. It was weird.
Anyway he got a plea bargain in the end, 3 years, but he almost lost it tying to be philosophical for the judge. He does got balls http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2005/06/30/AR2005063001743_pf.html
I had been a stay at home mom, but I went back to work, where I have worked for nearly 10 years as a waitress, and where my mom has worked all my life, where I met Manuel, and some of his brother father and uncle work there too. I needed work; they worked with my hours so my mom could baby-sit. It was even more awkward than before now that I’m “famous”. Filed a fiancé visa for Manuel, waited a year for an interview at the consulate. My mom played for my daughter and I so visit him in December. In-laws are hard for me, especially in broken Spanish, It was an awkward month, but I was glad to see him.
We went to his interview, but he couldn’t finish if cuz they needed a police report, which takes 3 weeks, and then needed to file a waiver of ineligibility, because he had been deported. The waiver takes 6-8 months. He filed 5 months ago. We haven’t seen him since December. Everyday at least 5 people ask me when he comes home, usually the same ones and its annoying.
This is it thought, when this waiver is done, we will know. If it is good, he can come home, we will live comfortable, low income American lives, and spend the winters in Guatemala. If it is bad we will live there. He will work 15 hours a day, for about 5 hours a day; I will be at home with the kids in a foreign land. It is very beautiful there, and I can deal with all that, but how will I ever see my parents again? Certainly that $5 a day won’t pay for much airfare. Will my dad even be aloud on planes to visit us? I think not! When this waiver comes back we can begin our lives, one-way or the other. I think about it every day and I’m terrified.
The waiver is ready now. I talked to him on Wednesday and he had just received a call from the embassy. He can go in this Wednesday or Thursday morning to get the results, and finish the interview. This is it, we will know on Wednesday. He wants to surprise his family here, so I can’t tell anyone at work (which are the only people I ever talk to). Also if it is denied we don’t want people to know. It’s possible he could come back illegally to earn some money for a few years, that way we can at least have a decent house. I can’t even bear the thought of it being denied. I need this to be done, so we can get on with life, but I wont be OK right now if it is denied. These whole 5 months, I haven’t let myself think of this. I’ve just been waiting anxiously for the approval, but now? I’m bursting at the seems, because this is the one thing I really want to talk about but I can’t! To top it all off I’m working 2 extra days this week so that’s almost double the “hay when’s your boy friend coming home?” questions!
Anyway if read this whole thing then, wow, thanks for listening! I feel a little better; I don’t think I’ve ever told the story all at once before. I’d like to write a book about it, so maybe this is a start.
Code:
We came back and now live in the U.S. but I think about that delay we had and how it all worked out, because now my family in mexico goes to that church and my cousin got the courage to keep going because when we would go w/him he started meeting people and feeling more comfortable to go after we had gone. I know God had a plan and a purpose for our situation. I don't know what will happen w/you and your hubby. But I will absolutely 100% be praying for you so that everything works out. I wish you guys all the best, and try not to worry too much. Just pray and put it in God's hands..