I just realized maybe you meant the relationship bit. I was in my mid-late 20s at the time. Was very religious, had gotten married very young, we moved to D.C. and I took a big-shot Capitol Hill job. Found out wife was cheating and found myself holding 99.99999% of the bag with two kids. While making ~$35k - $40k and working on fucking Capitol Hill/living in D.C.

Thankfully, the religiosity paid off at that point, as a coworker put out word at the church I attended and a very generous couple (mostly the woman) provided me with months of free full-time, in-home child-care. Really incredible and kind, even though I see them as pretty wacky, probably kinda hateful folks these days. Anyway, that bought me enough time to scramble to look at all my options. I didn’t really have any good ones. But I realized if I could scrape enough together for an au pair, it might be barely sustainable. I went through the process and interviewed various au pairs. Settled on a 23 or 24-year-old schoolteacher with a Master’s degree from Ukraine. An absurdly perfect choice to nanny my kids. As I think about it/type about it, it’s just all so absurd, but yeah.

We exchanged e-mails, did Skype calls. Looking back, they were already way too friendly. Again, I was in my late 20’s, literally actively going through divorce and raising my kids solo. She was in her mid-20s, coming to America for the first time. I mean, come on.

Then we hit a snag. After meticulous preparation, filling out/printing/reviewing every document, she traveled the 2-3 hours to Kyiv and met with the immigration official at the American consulate. Denied. Oh shit. I mean, really, oh shit. I’m on borrowed time now, and suddenly we’re just told straight up, “No. Denied.”

I believe we may have appealed once before I ultimately spoke about it with the member of the House of Representatives for whom I worked and by whom I was admittedly rather beloved, for better or worse. One problem being that the more you appeal/are denied, the less likely you are to get approved in the future. So it was all crumbling.

As an aside, my chosen pet issue at the time was Ukraine (this was maybe ~2014 or 2015?). After some research and e-mails and calls on my part, I eventually arranged/my boss agreed to a call with the ambassador to Ukraine to present my case. I used every power at my disposal (for better or worse) and I guess that worked, because she made it through on her next appeal.

Having gone through that trial together. Her being in her mid-20’s. Me being in my late-20’s and literally actively divorcing while raising my kids. She’s stepping in to help, but in America for the first time. I mean, come on. What a joke. BUT I WAS A SAINT. I WAS A FUCKING SAINT. It was a few weeks(?) before anything actually happened and SHE FUCKING STARTED IT. But also it was never entirely conventional, looking back, as I’m pretty sure we finished a bottle of wine and slow-danced her first night there? The timeline is a little fuzzy.

It’s a rollercoaster of a story that sounds potentially gross, potentially made-up, I don’t know. It’s weird to type it out. But that’s the gist of it.