Alternate title: The Final Stage
Well, folks, it finally happened. I am a permanent resident. After months of nervous anticipation, I am a legal resident of the United States.
We had our final interview on Wednesday morning. I'd done a bit of research into what the process would be like, but I still wasn't quite sure what to expect. We got to the government building, went through security, and checked in.
Ten minutes later we were meeting our interviewer as he led us back to his office. While he seemed nice, he also didn't seem very approachable. We sat down at his desk, and he pulled out my file. Guys, it was huuuuuuge. I'd forgotten how much paperwork we had sent in, plus all the papers and forms had been added to it since (by office workers, case workers, I don't even know who else).
Then the questions. He started out with an easy one: when is your spouse's birthday? Then he asked Luke what day we got married. After he verified our phone numbers and social security numbers, he asked if we had ever been married before or had any kids. Since neither of us had, that was pretty easy. Then, I had to answer the strangest question of the interview:
Are you currently pregnant?
I am not.
I then pulled out some documents proving that we are living together like a married couple - our rental agreement, a bank statement, wedding announcement, other pictures of us together, and our Netflix envelopes. He asked if we had anything else, like a Costco membership. Since we're poor college kids, we don't have anything like that. He must have figured that since neither of us had any real money or status, the marriage was legit.
He handed me a congratulations page (it's yellow, in case you were wondering), and that was it. He went over a few things concerning the next stage of the process, but that's not for two years.
And that's it. I'm allowed to live here and work here without fear of getting deported. I can come and go as I please. And it's a pretty good feeling.
Well, folks, it finally happened. I am a permanent resident. After months of nervous anticipation, I am a legal resident of the United States.
We had our final interview on Wednesday morning. I'd done a bit of research into what the process would be like, but I still wasn't quite sure what to expect. We got to the government building, went through security, and checked in.
Ten minutes later we were meeting our interviewer as he led us back to his office. While he seemed nice, he also didn't seem very approachable. We sat down at his desk, and he pulled out my file. Guys, it was huuuuuuge. I'd forgotten how much paperwork we had sent in, plus all the papers and forms had been added to it since (by office workers, case workers, I don't even know who else).
Then the questions. He started out with an easy one: when is your spouse's birthday? Then he asked Luke what day we got married. After he verified our phone numbers and social security numbers, he asked if we had ever been married before or had any kids. Since neither of us had, that was pretty easy. Then, I had to answer the strangest question of the interview:
Are you currently pregnant?
I am not.
I then pulled out some documents proving that we are living together like a married couple - our rental agreement, a bank statement, wedding announcement, other pictures of us together, and our Netflix envelopes. He asked if we had anything else, like a Costco membership. Since we're poor college kids, we don't have anything like that. He must have figured that since neither of us had any real money or status, the marriage was legit.
He handed me a congratulations page (it's yellow, in case you were wondering), and that was it. He went over a few things concerning the next stage of the process, but that's not for two years.
And that's it. I'm allowed to live here and work here without fear of getting deported. I can come and go as I please. And it's a pretty good feeling.
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