Curiouser and Curiouser…

Well, I expected a lot of things, but given how things have gone thus far, I have to admit I am immensely surprised by this one. A package arrived today (the 3rd of October) – actually two packages, but they were both directly related in the way that they couldn’t fit all the papers into one – containing the documentation that we submitted to the UK Home Office… well, if you count from the point where we were put on hold… a YEAR ago (plus some, because really?) including passports and a rather strange letter.

I get the distinct impression that the whole of the UK Home Office is really just a collection of sadists.  Or, if not sadists: trolls. For what other reason could someone have in requesting additional documentation over a year ago, keeping an applicant in limbo all that time, only to approve an application just when we were all so sure that it was going to be rejected?

But I’m getting ahead of myself. According to the letter, dated the 2nd of October, that came with all of our documentation we should be expecting another letter to arrive in the seven-to-ten days from now (and if not, it has provided a method in which we may contact them) containing a BRP (Biometric Residence Permit). This is all explained on the first page of the letter, the rest of it – totalling 4 pages if you count the page with basically the signature of the person who issued the letter – is about as good at instilling confidence and security as a wet blanket.

Why? Because in the first breath, it says (in all caps, because that’s how they wrote it):

THESE NOTES ARE FOR INFORMATION PURPOSES ONLY AND DO NOT CONVEY A GRANT OF LEAVE.

See what I mean by that wet blanket? Hence why I am sitting here like someone just told me to divide 423 by 7 in my head (don’t start). I’m also trying to grasp the upheaval that we’ve endured, which looks all the more unnecessary through the lenses of probable success. Did I really just spend a year and a half in legal limbo, six months of it pregnant, emotionally dangling off of a precipice… for no good reason what so freaking ever?

Are you actually serious? One could argue that I’m thinner skinned than I would be normally because I’m an incubator, but I really don’t think so. I’m 90% sure I would be hopping mad even if I wasn’t trying to remember what my toes look like.

In their defence, it isn’t as though they knew that, while we were on hold with them, we didn’t put life on hold while we were at it. But the upheaval, stress, anxiety and just all around horse hockey that we have had to play still remains.

If this is what the first page of this letter indicates, then what do we do now? We have exactly four months to re-setup a home of our own, re-aquire the household basics that we gave to charity in the time that we have been waiting for a refusal letter… to say nothing about getting ready for a child.

And if they’ve trolled us again and it turns out to be a refusal letter in disguise? We already planned for all of that, it would just mean that I would be ever-so-slightly madder over it on account that this would basically have been them dangling a carrot over a hungry rabbit and snatching it away again the moment the bunny jumps.

Which is why I feel as though this is the letter equivalent of Schrodinger’s Cat.

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