If the child welfare system truly prioritizes children's well-being, why would they insist on keeping a child in a home that isn’t the right fit or can’t meet their needs? Why would they place children with families without full disclosure to the caregivers of their challenges? And why do they seem unconcerned when a child poses a danger to their caregivers, siblings, or even themselves?
As a parent, I’ve wrestled with these questions firsthand. I was placed with a child whose significant challenges were never disclosed to me. When I turned to the Department of Family Services for help and guidance, I was met with silence.
When we could no longer keep our son safe in our home, we were then criminalized. Our story, the one you will read here and many others published by RAD Advocates, are not rare exceptions. In fact, they are the norm for families in these situations — a fact that must change if we want placements for at-risk children to succeed and children and families to get the help they need.
A System That Punishes Parents Instead of Supporting Them
I recently sat down to talk to a mother, who we’ll call Ann, whose adopted son is so out of control that no facilities have been able to handle him. Yet, the state is taking Ann to court. Her only crime? Not being able to single-handedly manage a teen who teams of professionals and lockdown facilities can’t handle either.
Question: Please tell us about your family.
Answer:
I have three kids who are currently ages 15, 13, and 13. One of my 13-year-olds, who we’ll call Rick, is adopted. We adopted Rick at age 4 from the Texas foster care system. I had always wanted to adopt children since I was a child. I wanted to provide a home for a child in need, and I believed that I could love any child as my own. I always believed that God calls us to take care of orphans, and this seemed like a way that I could give a child the greatest gift of all — a mother. I also believed that it would be a good example to my biological children and that we would all grow in strength and character. I dreamed of adopting more children later in life, of giving kids a safe home to grow up in, where they would feel loved. I knew that assimilating into the family and building trust would take time, maybe a long time, but I believed that time heals all wounds.
The Reality of Parenting a Child With Reactive Attachment Disorder
Question: Which of your kids have reactive attachment disorder (RAD)/developmental trauma disorder?
Answer:
Rick has RAD, along with co-morbid diagnoses of attention-deficit hyperactivity disorder, disruptive mood dysregulation disorder, major depressive disorder and oppositional defiant disorder. His RAD diagnosis came at age 6, but he certainly had the symptoms from when he came into the house. His behaviors have included violent rages, stealing, property destruction, suicidal and homicidal threats, cruelty to animals, fire setting, school violence threats and running away.
I was placed with a child whose significant challenges were never disclosed to me. When I turned to the department of family services for help and guidance, I was met with silence.
We tried numerous doctors, psychiatrists, counselors, a pediatric neurologist, over a dozen psychiatric hospitalizations, six months at a medical residential treatment center, 10 months at a home residential treatment center, eight months at a residential community and now placement at an emergency children's shelter. He has been kicked out of every placement due to extreme behavior, and he’s been denied placement at locations all over the country.
Question: What impact has this had on your family?
Answer:
The trauma that was brought into our home was overwhelming. We were in upheaval almost immediately and went into survival mode. The goal of each day was to survive that day with no one dying or being arrested. I had to implement extreme safety measures, learn restraints, educate myself and try to protect my biological children. My marriage ended less than two years after adoption.
The crisis in our family was so intense and so challenging that, looking back, I'm not sure how we survived — but by the grace of God. We were traumatized not only by Rick’s extreme behavior, violence, and threats, but also by the system, which seemed to abandon us. We had very little support or education or help, except from my family. I pleaded with the adoption agency for help and resources, but they ignored me. I pleaded with mental health agencies, therapists and psychiatrists, but there was so little they could do.
I didn't have any idea what RAD was or what was needed, or how to help any of my children. Mentally and emotionally, I was in crisis, and counselors and friends had no idea what our family was experiencing. I suffered major depression and developed anxiety. I began to have panic attacks for the first time in my life. My biological children felt neglected and afraid. They wanted to protect me from Rick but didn't know how, and they were constantly pleading with me to let him do whatever he wanted so he wouldn't get angry.
The path to finding placements was arduous. He was denied by facility after facility. We had numerous visits to the emergency room (ER), where Rick and I would have to stay for days, waiting on a bed somewhere. When Rick was having to be restrained and given emergency medication, one ER doctor told me, "We're not really equipped to deal with this here." The police tried to avoid us because they didn't want to arrest Rick. I felt utterly helpless.
The trauma that was brought into our home was overwhelming. We were in upheaval almost immediately and went into survival mode. The goal of each day was to survive that day with no one dying or being arrested. I had to implement extreme safety measures, learn restraints, educate myself, and try to protect my biological children. My marriage ended less than two years after adoption.
This led me to attempt to relinquish custody. When Rick was kicked out of a residential community for at-risk children, he was immediately hospitalized due to homicidal ideation, and they attempted discharge six days after admittance. At that time, after consulting with an attorney, I reported myself to Child Protective Services (CPS) and refused to pick him up. At this point, I entered the legal process. I have paid thousands for an attorney who is familiar with these cases. He is helping me to go through the legal process, which will end in either joint managing conservatorship with the state or relinquishment of custody. The things at stake for me are the charges of negligence and possibly being ordered to pay child support and for his treatment, which would be astronomical.
During our legal battle, the fear of the unknown has been significant. I don't know if my biological children will be taken away, and I've had to prepare them for what that would be like. I didn't know if I would be charged with child neglect and could lose my job. I don't know if the judge will rule against me and send Rick home. I've been verbally attacked by CPS, CASA (Court Appointed Special Advocates), acquaintances, and "friends" who don't understand the situation. I'm repeatedly questioned as to why I am unwilling to bring Rick home, and my ability to be a mother has been deeply questioned.
These things have created deep emotional wounds and have severely damaged my friendships. I've lost so much trust in people, been so hurt by things people have said and their unwillingness to offer genuine help, and their lack of understanding. I have felt sorrow, anguish, and loneliness.
We had very little support or education or help, except from my family. I pleaded with the adoption agency for help and resources, but they ignored me. I pleaded with mental health agencies, therapists, and psychiatrists, but there was so little they could do.
I've also lost my son; my dream of who he would grow up to be, the memories we had that were good, the hope I had for his healing. I've lost my son, but there's no funeral, no compassion, no expectation of grief, because it was my choice to lose him. There's overwhelming guilt and sadness in that. My kids have lost their brother, their other parent, and their sense of security in the family unit. Rick has lost everything, but he doesn't even know it. My other family members have suffered too, seeing my pain and my family's struggle, feeling helpless and not knowing what to do. They also hoped for a grandson/nephew/cousin, and that's been lost.
Financially, it is a struggle to maintain our standard of living while caring for Rick's needs, his placements, and now an attorney. The cost has been enormous, which leads to bitterness and frustration against the system that put me in this position. I was trying to do something good for a child in need, and it has cost me dearly, and it has cost my biological children long term as well. I can't save for their college and pay for Rick’s placement at the same time.
Questions: How did you find RAD Advocates, and how has RAD Advocates helped?
Answer:
I don't remember how I found RAD Advocates. When Rick was diagnosed with RAD, I started attending attachment conferences, but they were highly designed for counselors and educators, not parents, and they did not have any focus on RAD. I started attending RAD Advocates conferences at the first one in Denver and found it to be incredibly helpful.
RAD Advocates saved my life. I was at such a loss, felt so alone, and was mentally and emotionally breaking down. I was so overwhelmed and had no one to help me. When I went to the first RAD Advocates conference, I discovered that other parents felt exactly like I did. I wasn't alone, and the RAD Advocates staff didn't judge me at all.
At the conferences, they serve bacon and chocolate for snacks instead of fruit and vegetables; these people understood turmoil and suffering! They talked about really hard things with immense honesty, and they said things that I was too scared to admit. This was the first time since adopting my son that I felt hope. I became a member immediately.
Since then, RAD Advocates COO and Advocate Heather Houze has worked with me one-on-one. She has attended legal meetings, sent information for my attorney, talked me through options and given me advice on how to talk to my other children. She also reminds me to take care of myself and has real ideas for how to do that. I can tell Heather how I'm feeling and what I'm thinking with real honesty — things I wouldn't admit to friends or family. She has never judged me. She is the first person to take my side and to stand by my side throughout the years of system trauma. I can't imagine how I would have gotten through this without RAD Advocates. They saved my life and gave me hope.
Question: How can/should things change?
Answer:
Families need help in so many ways. There are so many changes that need to happen. It starts with adoption agencies and state adoption workers. They need to be screening kids for RAD.
Kids with RAD should not be placed in families that don't have the resources or training to handle it. They should not be placed with other kids. It's a recipe for disaster and almost always ends in failure. Everyone is worse off because of these uninformed adoptions. Then there needs to be RAD training of some sort for parents. I wish I had known what I was dealing with. There would have been so many things I would have done differently.
As far as treatment, counselors, educators, doctors, and psychiatrists need education and training on RAD. When it becomes financially feasible, I would like to see RAD Advocates develop training for school counselors and other professionals who work with our families — also a conference designed for them.
RAD Advocates saved my life. I was at such a loss, felt so alone, and was mentally and emotionally breaking down. I was so overwhelmed and had no one to help me. When I went to the first RAD Advocates conference, I discovered that other parents felt exactly like I did. I wasn't alone, and the RAD Advocates staff didn't judge me at all.
Judges and society in general need to be informed that not all children can be successful in homes. My judge doesn't want Rick to be institutionalized. But he doesn't seem to realize that institutionalization is the only way to keep Rick safe from himself. There are no long-term places for these kids to go. If they don't want to be in a family, or can't succeed in a family, there are no places. The first residential treatment center Rick was at was $30,000/month, which was covered by insurance for a limited time. After that it was private pay. There are simply no funds to support the extreme resources these kids need, and I'm not sure what the solution is for that, except to keep trying to educate and inform.
Question: What’s your advice to other families?
Answer:
My advice to other families would be to not do this alone. If you can manage it, get help from RAD Advocates. They know so many things and so many people. Go to a RAD Advocates conference and get connected with other parents so that you have someone to talk to who understands. If you're in a big city, start a support group for other RAD parents (but be careful that they are actually RAD parents). Find friends who will get trained in RAD respite and watch your child for a couple of hours or a couple of days per week. Don't do this alone. That's my biggest advice.
A System in Desperate Need of Change
Ann’s story, like mine, is not unique. Families across the country are criminalized for needing help when parenting children with reactive attachment disorder. Instead of offering resources and support, the child welfare system turns its back on struggling families or threatens that family with legal action. You can read other stories about families criminalized for needing help below:
The system must change. Adoption agencies and child welfare workers must be transparent about the needs of children with RAD. Professionals — including therapists, educators and legal advocates — must be properly trained in recognizing and treating the disorder. And above all, families need real, actionable support.
Kids with RAD should not be placed in families that don't have the resources or training to handle it. They should not be placed with other kids. It's a recipe for disaster and almost always ends in failure. Everyone is worse off because of these uninformed adoptions.
As Heather Houze of RAD Advocates says, "Families are often blamed for their child’s RAD behaviors when they should be receiving support. Reactive attachment disorder isn’t just hard — it can be dangerous. We need systems that acknowledge that reality instead of punishing parents who are trying to keep everyone safe."
Call to Action: Support Families, Demand Change
If you are struggling with the challenges of raising a child with reactive attachment disorder, you are not alone. RAD Advocates exists to support and educate families like yours. No matter your situation, anyone can help advocate for change. For example, you can:
Share this post to help spread awareness.
Connect with RAD Advocates to find support.
Advocate for systemic change so families like Ann’s don’t have to suffer in silence.
Together, we can create systemic change for families. It will not be fair that we have to fight so hard. It will take a lot of work and time. But, together, we will make a difference. It's been done before with afflictions like autism and schizophrenia. Keep going.
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