Reunion Thoughts: The Post Script

Greg and I have now been home from our trip six weeks. Six weeks to readjust, settle in, process and reassume our normal lives and roles.

A friend told me that there was a possibility that Greg might pull away from adoption completely for a while as he processed all that he saw and heard on the trip.

He has. And his first family (birth family) has as well.

Senior called once on the day we got home, and sent the pictures of the prison visit, but didn't enclose a note or letter. Greg and I sent 200 pictures back to him and have not received a response.

This week, Greg commented on this to Shel and I with some disappointment in his voice.

The only person Greg has mentioned having on going contact with is his brother. Greg has initiated 2 emails to him, with no response. What Greg doesn't realize yet, and I haven't the heart to tell him, is that brother has blocked both of us on My Space, Facebook and on msn. I think that this relates to what I saw in Missouri regarding L's desire to control the friendship between the two of them. On this front, I am heart broken for Greg. Brother's birthday approaches, and I am hoping this will open a door for Greg to write a letter and send a gift.

Speaking of L, there has been no further contact from her. Her birthday came and went and Greg adamantly refused to initiate contact himself. I have texted her twice, and received a response once.

Greg himself has been quiet about it all. The odd mention now and then, but not much discussion. Normal life has continued with nary a bump, so far. We look through the scrapbook I made of the trip and he is not overly interested in it. It seems his curiousity has been sated, and his desire to return to normal life has been strong.

From my point of view, he and I are closer. We talk more about everything. With a new sense of confidence that the trip gave me, I am tougher on him in some ways. I can read him better. I can often tell what he is thinking. I am more empowered to put boundaries in place specifically in regards to him, he is more prone to accept them. He also gets more privileges. I trust him, I respect his level of responsibility.

For those that fear reunion or talk lots of losing their child to the pull of a first family, I'd like to offer a counter arguement. My son is still my son. I helped him fill a NEED he had, a need that scared and saddened me at times, and thrilled me at others. Because we listened to him and his needs at the time when HE needed it, not at the artificial age of 18 or 21 or "some day when we think you are ready" we were rewarded with a child that trusts us MORE. Needs us MORE. Loves us, if possible, even MORE.

Greg came home still Greg. He is still grouchy in the mornings and giddy in the afternoons. He still has a mask expression on his face most of the time that others thnk means he is grouchy, but I know means he is bored or uncomfortable. He jokes, he laughs, he cries. He plays with his brothers. He laughs uproariously at home, smiles shyly when we are out. He gets mad a me, and he hugs me. He is super competative, and nervous about change. In essence, he is still Greg. Still my son. Still the child of my heart.

I have no regrets.