I'll be picking D and the kids up from the airport this afternoon. Right now, my house is (somewhat?) clean. Things are (mostly?) done. And I'm playing the what-if game in my head.

What if one of the kids gets hurt? What if all three car seats don't actually fit in the Jeep? What if it never, ever stops raining and we're stuck in the house for the whole entire week? What if the introductions go bad at the library? Or worse, at church? What if Nicholas is mean to JD? Or worse, the Munchkin? What if the Munchkin is mean to Nicholas? Or Josh? Or me? What if Nick decides he can't sleep in the Pack n'Play? What if nobody sleeps all week because the kids' schedules are wonky?

What if I get uber-emotional and forget to take my own advice and discuss it with D? What if I don't feel well? What if D gets uber-emotional and forgets to discuss it with me? What if Josh gets cranky? What if there's a house fire? What if my house isn't clean enough? What if my friends don't get along with D? What if someone says something really off-the-wall?

These along with many other totally irrational thoughts and fears play through my head on the days leading up to a visit. On the day of a visit, they are out in full force, making it almost impossible to concentrate on the tasks at hand: finishing laundry, making iced tea and feeding the Kid. Thankfully, I have a super supportive Husband who listens to me when I spout of a million and one what-if scenarios, most of which won't happen. Sometimes he just listens. Sometimes he had genuine advice. Sometimes he gives me a look that says, "Get real, Jenna." (Mostly that one comes when I say things like, "What if aliens abduct us all and switch our brains?!")

Some people are shocked to find out that I, a birth mom in a successful, fully open adoption, get all kinds of freaked out before a visit. But it's true. My anxiety is high. My nerves are basically shot. And I worry. I want things to be good. (Okay, technically I want things to be perfect since I'm a perfectionist but good will have to suffice.) I've gotten advice from well-intentioned people before that went something along the lines of, "Oh, don't be silly."

I'm not being silly. (Okay, except maybe the aliens part.) To an outsider, maybe these visits seem like nothing special or important. To me? They're the world. I get to bond with the Munchkin approximately four times per year. They are extremely special and extremely important to me. It's hard to remember all of my advice to others when I'm in the throes of trying to create lasting memories with my daughter. It's hard to remember to properly communicate when I'm overwhelmed. It's hard to take things in stride when I want things to go well.

I speak often about visits and some may assume that means that I take them casually or that they don't mean much to me. Nothing could be farther from the truth. I know that this week (and a few days) is important for my bonding with the Munchkin, for my relationship with D, for Nicholas to spend with his sister and her brother playing, laughing and biting one another (uhm, seriously), and for Josh to further fall into his role. Visits like this are vastly important to the function of our open adoption.

And so, with that, I'm going to go sit with my son, watch some Thomas the Tank Engine and then make my way to the airport (in the rain) while praying that God shines a blessing on this visit... and calms my nerves just a bit.

More from Visit-land later!