We’ve been awaiting the license’s arrival for months, alternating between anticipation and disappointment with nearly every visit to the mailbox. We had grown used to the idea of it not coming, and in fact, had really let it fall off our radar screens. We assumed it was languishing, dusty and neglected, in the DHS offices of our state’s capital, victim of short-staffing and overwhelming work loads.
I did not think the license would arrive in the unassuming white envelope. The only thing that made it stand out to me at all was the Department of Human Services return address. I can’t say I felt excited when I realized that our official provisional license was inside. I had just come home from a long day at work, and my focus was on heating up leftover risotto for dinner.
When I got inside, I put the rice in the microwave, then opened the envelope and unfolded the document on the counter. I took a picture of it, and texted it to my partner. We’re one step closer to being daddies.