My story is one that thousands of Canadians share. My name is Emmanuelle Bergeron, and I never expected to fall in love with a man who lived in another country. On July 7, 2017, I met Ernesto Davalos Urbizo. From that point on, I flew to see him as much as I could as our relationship grew. The periods of separation have always been filled with emotional conversations online.
In February 2018, I was thrilled to be able to tell him that he was going to be a father. Being in my early 40s, I no longer thought that dream possible. We were excited about our plans for the future and we met with a lawyer to apply for a temporary visa. We were applying so that my partner could be here for the birth of our son. I was planning to go back to Cuba when the baby was two months old for my maternity leave. That would give us time to work on the application for permanent residence through sponsorship. We submitted all of the necessary proof and documentation, but in 2018, we were shocked to learn that the application had been refused under subsection 179(b) of the Immigration and Refugee Protection Regulations.
On July 11, 2018, in front of family and friends in Varadero, I promised not just to cherish Ernesto, but also to do everything in my power to reunite our whole family under one roof. A few days later, we found out that another application had been refused, this one for a visitor visa so that Ernesto could be with me for the birth of our son. I was six months' pregnant and a soon-to-be mother—my heart was broken. I could no longer hold back tears at the airport, where I once again had to say goodbye to my husband. It is thanks to the support of family and friends that I was able to return to Canada without him. The government refused his basic right to be present for the birth of his son on the pretext that he had family ties here, in Canada, and had not convinced the immigration officer that he would return to his country.
On July 30, 2018, I filled out and submitted the application and paid the required fees. My son Lucas was born on October 1, 2018, and his father, Ernesto, learned that he had become a father a few minutes later by video conference. Immigration, Refugees and Citizenship Canada, or IRCC, opened our sponsorship application on November 28, 2018. The interminable wait had begun. During the long months of not hearing from the department other than to receive requests for updated documents and forms, my son and I travelled to see his father. Ernesto held his son in his arms for the first time when Lucas was two years old.
On July 28, 2019, a year after submitting the application, we received a request to complete a medical exam and permission to apply for a Quebec selection certificate. Applicants are supposed to receive an answer within 25 business days, but I did not receive it until December 4, 2019, five months later. That was yet another document that delayed the processing of our application.
As time went on, visits grew further apart and finances became strained. After 18 months of waiting, we received a letter from IRCC asking us to prove that our love was a genuine, bona fide and public relationship. A month later, on February 8, 2020, we received a letter welcoming my husband to Canada. We cried tears of joy. We were happy and we thought it was over, but alas, it was not. On March 19, 2020, we received another letter notifying us that the medical exam results had been lost. I was angry. My spouse had taken the medical exam in Trinidad and Tobago on August 26, 2019.
Since Cuba no longer had a panel physician following service cuts at the Canadian embassy in Havana, I had to pay for the trip, something I had not budgeted for. It cost me about $4,000. Since then, I have submitted the supporting document provided by the clinic three times, but it doesn't show up in my IRCC account. After calling the clinic where the exam was conducted, I was told by the secretary that the results did indeed appear in IRCC's online system. She sent everything by fax and email to Mexico City. What happened to the results? We will never know because IRCC never responds to our inquiries.
COVID-19 blindsided the entire planet, causing countries to close their borders. Frankly, I am worn out. I don't think I can make it through another goodbye at the airport. In the past two years, Ernesto was able to cuddle, rock and hold his son for all of 15 weeks. We have been waiting for 27 months. We have submitted all of the required documents, we have met the Quebec selection certificate criteria and we have paid all the fees.
The last time Ernesto held his son in his arms was January 5, 2020, more than 315 days ago. I am worn out and on the brink of depression. I cry every time my two-year-old son brings me the telephone saying “daddy, daddy” because he wants to see his father. I cry every morning because my husband is so far away. I feel like the government has robbed me of the most precious moments of my life, moments I will never get back. I have moved past anger. I want to cry foul when I see the government issue visas to people who submitted their applications after I did and who do not have children. How a country built on family values can turn its back on us like this is beyond me.
Today, I am speaking on behalf of all the women who have and who will give birth to their child without their spouse by their side.
Would Mr. Mendicino or Mr. Trudeau stand for being separated from their wives at a time as important as the birth of their child?
On what basis can an immigration officer decide to deny a father his fundamental right to see the birth of his child?
Thousands of Canadian families are living with the lack of transparency, the inconsistency and the unfairness caused by the discretionary power of officers. As a result, we remain uncertain about the future of our family.