I am a 30-year old woman happily married with a three-year old boy. My parents moved to Canada when I moved here with my now-husband. Once they were here, I asked them to file for residency since I was not legally married to my husband at the time. The situation in my home country was not the best, and living in it is became harder every day. So my parents, being working residents in a foreign country, filed in for my residence. After a process that took several years, I got my residence from my parents. The problem was that this residence covered only me, not my husband. We are legally married now and we love each other dearly. This obviously means that we are not very fond of being separated from each other. I know this is the man I want to spend the rest of my life with, together. When I got pregnant with our child, I spent my whole pregnancy and delivery in Canada. Those were the longest ten months since I spent them without him by my side. I must say that my parents' help and consolation were of much help. Of course, we called each other almost every day, but nothing can take the place of physical contact with the one you love. Delivering my boy was a rather bitter experience since they would not let anyone inside with me during delivery and everyone spoke in French! My mom, which is the only one who understood some French, was not allowed in. These were the times in which I missed him so much. A month after delivering my son I came back to my home country and gave him the longest kiss and hug. I had to come back to Canada for a while. It was not until six months later that I was able to bring our boy for him to meet him. I remember him crying with joy when he saw him and that was when I realized that being miles apart was not the way this was intended to be. So I learned that being a resident is not enough to get residence for my husband too. I have to be in the labor force. I need to get myself a driver´s license in my home country to be able to get one in Canada. Once I did, I could get myself to work and then start the process of bringing my husband to live with us, as a family. So, as I was there, sitting at the local police office, with my cell phone in my hand and this industrial compactflash my husband had asked for me to bring for him, waiting for my name to be called, I kept dreaming of the time in which my family is together again. It will take long, but it is the image of us together playing in the snow that drives me. It is the love I have for him. This is my hope.