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How I Reunited with My Wife and Son Amid the Chaos of Trump’s Travel Ban
by Exhausted in Texas
Updated: Sep. 22, 2020
Originally Published: Feb. 10, 2017
Exhausted in Texas
Wednesday, January 25, 4:50 p.m., Dallas time | Thursday, January 26, 2:20 a.m., Tehran time
I was sitting at my desk in a second-floor office in Dallas when I first heard the shocking news. Grabbing my phone, I rapidly hit speed dial, waking my wife, Layla, in Tehran, Iran. It was the dead of night there, but sunlight flooded through my window here in Texas. I tried to keep my tone calm, but my anxiety slipped through. “Layla, you need to leave immediately! Can you get ready in an hour and take the 9 a.m. flight?”
Her sleepy, confused mumble was both comforting and concerning: she was unsure—our son, Amir, was still asleep, the airport was over an hour away, and nothing was packed. She had intended to stay for another week. “Let me wake up my parents and see what they think.”
Earlier that day, I had learned that the new U.S. president had signed executive orders to “build a border wall and accelerate the deportation of undocumented immigrants.” One executive order draft indicated that some legal permanent residents might be barred from returning to the U.S. This struck fear in my heart; my wife, a permanent resident, was in Iran with our son.
A Quick Background
I first met Layla at an Argentine tango dance party I was hosting (you never know where love will find you). We bonded over our shared passion for dance, fell in love, and eventually married. Now, we live in Dallas with our one-year-old son, Amir, who was celebrating his first birthday soon.
Layla had just completed her PhD in electrical engineering, and we planned her visit to see her family in Tehran before she started her job search. She left Dallas in early January, and I was set to join her two weeks later. We had plans for a big family welcome reception, complete with a wedding cake, and we even packed our ski gear for some fun in the mountains nearby. On our way back to Dallas, we hoped to spend a weekend in Dubai with a friend who is a pilot there.
The Dreaded News
On Tuesday, January 23, I came across a Reuters article indicating that the president would issue an executive order to “restrict access to the United States for refugees and some visa holders from seven countries.” I felt a pang of sadness—Layla’s parents would no longer be able to visit us! I quickly called her in Iran, and we reasoned that as a U.S. permanent resident with a U.S. citizen husband and child, our plans should remain unaffected.
The following day, I checked in for my Emirates flight online and was thrilled to find a low-cost business-class upgrade. I was in high spirits, wrapping up work before my vacation. But then, at 2 p.m., I stumbled across a draft of the executive order. My heart sank as I read the chilling words that stated, “I hereby suspend entry into the United States, as immigrants and nonimmigrants, of such persons.” I was floored—how could they deny someone entry to their own home?
In a panic, I decided to cancel my trip and bring my family back. I quickly booked them on the next available Emirates flight, scheduled to return on February 2. But as I dug deeper into the implications of the order, I realized I had to act faster.
The Race Against Time
I started searching for flights leaving Tehran that evening. I found a British Airways flight departing at 9 a.m. local time. If Layla could make it to the airport in time, she could catch a connecting American Airlines flight back to Dallas. However, I learned she would need a transit visa for the UK, but luckily, U.S. permanent residents didn’t require one.
At around 5 p.m., I finally reached Layla after a frantic series of calls. “You have to leave now!”
By 5 p.m., I was purchasing tickets. The airline system showed a “Waiting to be ticketed” message. Time was running out, and I still needed to secure a ticket for Amir, who was classified as an infant. After two hours of phone calls, I finally managed to get both of their ticket numbers. Layla made it to the airport just in time for her flight to Heathrow.
But then I realized she would need to change terminals at Heathrow, which could take up to 90 minutes. I warned her, “Don’t gate-check the stroller. Just run when you land.”
The Flight to Freedom
By 11:30 p.m., Layla and Amir were on British Airways flight 152, leaving Tehran. I could hardly sleep, missing them more than ever. My friend, Matt, was awake too, supporting me with texts through the chaos.
The next morning, Layla and Amir landed in London. I received a text from her at 7:41 a.m., “We made it love.” I felt a wave of relief wash over me. As American Airlines flight 79 took off from Heathrow toward Dallas, I couldn’t help but wonder about the fate that still awaited them upon arrival.
With growing concern, I considered the possibility of Layla facing deportation upon landing. I called my brother in Toronto to prepare for any emergencies. I also checked flights from DFW to Canada, preparing for the worst-case scenario.
As the hours passed, I felt a mix of anxiety and hope. I focused on the present, knowing that I was doing everything I could to keep my family safe.
Summary
In the face of uncertainty and fear, I managed to bring my wife and son back from Iran during the panic of Trump’s travel ban. Through frantic phone calls and quick decision-making, I successfully secured their passage back to Dallas just in time, despite the looming threat of executive orders that could have barred them from returning home. This journey highlighted the importance of family, resilience, and the lengths we go to protect our loved ones. For those navigating similar situations, resources like the NICHHD on pregnancy and insights from Make a Mom’s at-home insemination kit can be invaluable.