Sitting in my blog post drafts are a couple of cheery little posts - a round up of gorgeous bedding I'm lusting after for our bedroom, a post about pretty urban balcony gardens, a kind-of-successful attempt at jollof rice and a proper post about our weekend with the cheetahs.
But they all feel too frivolous and carefree to post at the moment.
In less than three days time, R and I have an interview with immigration so they can decide whether or not to allow him to stay in this country, with me. I'm a bit at a loss as to how to explain how it feels to be staring down the barrel of a major life change, and having so little control of the outcome.
If you've read other posts or know us at all, you'll be somewhat aware of the fact that I consider him my rock. It's an indescribable comfort to have someone who is 100% on your side, who has your back no matter what and wants to see you succeed and be the very best you can be. I've felt safer and more capable with his support than I have in years, or maybe ever. I'm not exactly fearless, but I'm not crippled by anxiety and I'm actually passionately planning a future...and I'm planning it with R.
And we've gotten over roadblocks before. Most notably the miscarriage, but since we've been together R has also had the business he worked for collapse, I've been bullied out of one work place and made redundant from another. We've sometimes struggled financially...at one point we were living off my tiny $590 a week income, in an apartment that was costing us $450 a week in rent, plus running my car so I could get to work and back and R could job hunt. We got really good at shopping at Aldi and making passably tasty meals using Mi Goreng noodles. In fact, when we found out we were pregnant, we had no washing machine and were getting by with a tiny second hand bar fridge that I bought for $30 at Vinnies.
This time though, there's a chance it won't just be a roadblock. This time I have a sick feeling in my stomach that we might be careening towards a sheer drop and I have no idea whats down there. I've never prayed before but I find myself trying to bargain with the universe to just let me keep him here, I'll do whatever it takes. I'm looking for signs or good luck charms everywhere. I was browsing nail polish today and reading the names of the colour printed on the bottom, searching for one that might comfort me. I turned over one called "Vacation Time". What did that mean? That the visa would get a approved and we'd finally be booking a holiday? Or did that mean it would be rejected and my 'vacation' would actually be flights back to Ghana to avoid us being separated? Or, are the names of random nail polishes in K Mart completely arbitrary and my brain is just so overwhelmed by this that it's inventing creative coping mechanisms?
The truth is, I'm terrified. I can't even begin to contemplate a life that is suddenly without him here. I can't get my head around how we would rewrite our future plans if he weren't allowed to stay, or how I could carry on my share of the plans on my own. Or how he could on his own. I can't imagine living in this apartment we've shared, driving the car we bought together, using the laptop, the TV, the couch that he bought knowing he was so far away.
I still can't think through what we'll do if the answer is no. It's too big and too depressing and too scary to contemplate. A no wouldn't mean the end of us, but it would mean the end of our dream future. The thought of having to raise my future children far away from my family here because he wasn't allowed to stay makes me tear up. The thought of starting all over again somewhere else after all the battles we've already thought makes me dizzy. We can't do it. I don't want to.
So that's it. He has to be able to stay, because I need him to stay.
I need him.