DS was 5 and a half when he came to us, and is now 10. He had been with his foster carers for a year and a half, and they had a really good relationship, which was good for him but meant that he mourned them more than BM when placed. We saw FCs three days after placement, at the suggestion of SWs, so that DS could see that not all adults disappeared from his life. We carried on meeting up with them several times a year, usually at a neutral location, and now they are a just another set of friends.
To be honest, the first three months were hell, but OH and I seemed to have bad days on different days, so we got through, one day at a time. I started thinking about one thing that had gone well each day when I got into bed at night, and still continue with that now (feels like a nice way to end the day). Things got better with time, and about 6 months in he started calling us mummy and daddy (we were introduced as jings and jingsOH, which is what he called us initially). He came up with his own terms for me and BM - for a while we were old mummy and new mummy.
One of the hardest things is becoming a parent under the eyes of a very critical audience, who didn't pull any punches when pointing out out shortcomings, but in a funny way I grew to be proud of his ability to construct an argument to tell me what I'd done wrong! I'd second Ted's post about needing every minute of adoption leave even if DC is at school - it's exhausting and demanding, and it was important to always be there at pick-up time so he knew he could rely on me. We also had some regression, and a need for us to 'claim' him, so developed a game after bathtime 'you're my baby now!' (think League of gentlemen, papa lazarou - creepy but DS loved it). On one memorable occasion he asked to be tied to my stomach with my dressing gown cord, like he was simulating a pregnancy.
Almost 5 years on, things are great, just gearing up for what the teenage years might bring 