***This blog post will be a series of posts
about what RAD is and how it has changed our family.
Definition of Reactive Attachment Disorder:
“Reactive
attachment disorder is a rare but serious condition in which an infant or young
child doesn't establish healthy attachments with parents or caregivers.
Reactive attachment disorder may develop if the child's basic needs for
comfort, affection and nurturing aren't met and loving, caring, stable
attachments with others are not established.
With
treatment, children with reactive attachment disorder may develop more stable
and healthy relationships with caregivers and others. Treatments for reactive
attachment disorder include positive child and caregiver interactions, a
stable, nurturing environment, psychological counseling, and parent or
caregiver education.”
I have
decided to do a series about how this diagnosis has affected our family. I do this because I want to help educate
people about what RAD is and how you can better help children or families who
are struggling with this. I want to
share the highs and lows of RAD to either inspire, educate or give hope to
others. We are not experts in RAD but we
are walking this journey and learning along the way. What we learn, I will do my best to share.
Upon
receiving this diagnosis for our son, we went through a variety of
emotions. We are still going through ups
and downs with accepting the diagnosis.
Just today I spent 2 hours searching the internet for other matching
diagnosis. Hoping against all hope that
this is not the diagnosis that will be ours.
Unfortunately, as much as I try to convince myself otherwise, this is
the beast our family has been dealt. RAD
is not all bad. RAD is not completely
hopeless. But, RAD is a diagnosis that
forces you to change your thinking, behavior and parenting drastically.
RAD means
you have to have an endless storage of patience, flexibility, acceptance and
compassion. You must maintain a strong
support system that can build you up and encourage you. They must be observers of change and they
must be sure to share the little triumphs that you may miss without someone
pointing it out. Our little RAD-ical
child has changed us dramatically… and I am learning that I am being changed
for the better
Part One: The Gift of Humility
RAD will
bring you to your knees. To say we have
been humbled is a true understatement.
There is nothing more humbling than seemingly, failing publically in
raising your child. Especially if you
are a Buckley and pride has been your middle name.
For me,
having one of my children “lose it” in public is akin to literally giving a
speech to a packed house in the nude.
Having one of my children “lose it” while screaming that “I am hurting
them, hate them and why do you treat me so bad?” with the sole intent of
manipulation… is actually what my nightmares used to consist of. Having a child that lies about the sky being
blue and will literally throw a fit for hours until you agree, is my literal
hell. Having a child that steals the
neighbors IPAD or the teachers money was literally unfathomable to me. Watching my child hurt animals or weaker
people with little to no empathy or emotion is something I never thought I
would have to deal with. These were all
things other people, less knowledgable, less faithful, dealt with. Not me.
That is, until I had a child who does all of these things and has for
the last 4 years.
For most of
my 18+ years working in Early Childhood Education, I have been known as the
behavior guru. Any and all bad behaviors
that has come across my desk, I have easily solved. Rarely, if ever, has a child’s behavior
resulted in removal of the child from our centers. I was the teacher who would say, in all
sincerity, “give me that kid for a week and he will be a changed person”. Not only did I believe that, I always
achieved that. I was the mother of 4
perfect, little angels. They did no
wrong in this mama’s eyes. I walked
through life with the knowledge that I was the great and powerful Oz of
parenting. This prideful, arrogant,
superhero complex is one of the sole reasons I never thought twice about
adopting a 3 year old child from a rough background.
Prior to
adopting K, it was super clear that he had behavior issues. Most of the behaviors was blamed on high amounts
of sugar or an “allergy” to dyes. I knew
this was not the case. Sure, he acted
hyper when he ate a twinkie but after spending some time with me, I would nip
that right in the bud. I was so
confident and sure that with some consistent and loving discipline he would be
magically fixed. With a consistent
schedule and a happy, forever family his behavior problems would vanish. Ha! K
quickly showed me that was not the case.
It was clear
one month in that I was over my head. I
was totally taken aback by some of his behaviors and was shocked about how
constant and demanding his behavior was. We received numerous “sad” notes on behavior
and even had to have a conversation with the director about removing our child
from the center I was managing. I spent
most of my time picking up and dropping off K to daycare with my head hanging
low. I quickly became the parent who
tried to pick him up without having any eye contact or conversations with his
teachers. I wanted to get in and get out
just so I wouldn’t have to hear about all the ways we were failing.
Church was a
nightmare. I remember one Sunday I took
all the kids to church solo. At the
beginning of mass, K threw a huge fit in our pew about something very
small. Because RAD is a disorder that
relies on manipulating others to maintain or get control, this fit was loud,
powerful and EVERYONE was staring. I
took K in the back of the church {there was no cry room} and sat with him as he
screamed and threw himself on the ground.
There was no where to hide and I knew that I could not back down. I held onto his hand while he screamed and
then I literally wept. I refused to give
in and we stayed in the back while my other 4 children sat abandoned in the
pew. I envisioned our church dousing our
family in holy water as we ran from the church right after the consecration. It was an absolute fiasco. In the car, K acted as if nothing had
happened. He was not apologetic or fazed
by the circus he had just caused. My
older children were mortified and silent.
The younger children were just freaked out. I could not imagine how a little 4 year old
could create such a tornado and seemingly be completely detached.
At home,
Shawn was constantly questioning my “amazing” parenting techniques and for the
first time in my life, I became the parent I had always judged… I was reading
parenting books! I read books cover to
cover. I watched Nanny 911 like my life
depended on it. I was spending hours on
pinterest and the internet looking for any magical cure-all to help create
change in behavior. All the while every
single thing I tried brought zero results.
Shawn and I
were at odds and being pitted against each other with the manipulative magic a
RAD kid owns like a boss. K was the
master of triangulation. He would work
the 2 of us against each other. K would
throw hour long fits for me and when Shawn would come home, he would act like I
was treating him so badly. He was so
good at his act that Shawn was actually starting to second guess me. He had never did this in all of our 16 years
of marriage.
Worst of
all, I was becoming the worst version of myself. I was yelling all the time, I was snapping
and turning into the world’s worst mom. Our
lives had become a lifetime movie on crack.
I was exhausted, defeated but not yet humbled.
About 2
years in someone shared a meme with me that made my eyes open a little wider…
“have you prayed about it as much as you have talked about it”. There wasn’t even a question. Of course I asked for prayers. I begged for prayers. I wanted everyone in my close circle of
family and friends to know my struggle and pray for me. I loved “talking” about
it to anyone who would listen. But until I saw that meme, I really had not done
the work myself. I vowed that day to
fall on my knees and Trust in God to answer my prayers.
I slowly
began to realize that my requested prayers came from a place of pride and fear. Pride, because I wanted people to see that
although it may seem like we were failing at parenting, it wasn’t really “our”
fault. We were the very best
parents. His biological family clearly
held all the blame. We were merely trying to “fix” him. More than that, we were absolutely “amazing”
people who adopted a child in need thus, we deserved to have the “perfect”
family.
I knew that
my request for prayers came from a deep fear and insecurity that I was not good
enough to have an audience with God.
Fear that He would not answer my prayers. Mostly, fear that I would fail and our child
would never heal. I was scared that I
had pushed my family into this decision and that we were not strong enough to
succeed in the blessing God gave us.
My gift of
humility began the year that I really began to pray. Asking God to guide me and trust in Him. During this year, God called us to another
church and gave me the gift of CHRP. He
put it on my heart to go for a weekend women’s retreat. While there, I had some amazing moments of
grace. I felt scripture talking to my
soul and I left that weekend knowing that this was spiritual revival in my
life. I found a spiritual advisor, who
told me what I was already hearing the Holy Spirit say… “Humility is the door
to all other virtues”. During the next
year my CHRP sisters prayed for me and listened to me whine and moan about K. But, they also witnessed my moment of
humility and I don’t think they even knew it.
It happened
during a meeting. We had recently gotten
a dog. In all of my ignorance, I truly
felt like getting a dog would help K learn empathy. What I didn’t know then, but know now, is
kids with RAD have a desire to hurt animals and people… especially those weaker
and more vulnerable than them. During that
week, we had caught K doing very unsafe things to our dog and others. We had called his therapist who quickly and
rashly suggested that K may need to be removed and placed in a treatment
facility to keep himself and others safe.
This literally broke me.
There was no
more hiding these issues. It had become
frighteningly clear that we were in way over our heads. We needed way more help than we had. I felt like we were drowning and there was no
one to help us or guide us.
I brought
this pain to my sisters and started to cry hard. I asked for prayers. I don’t remember who, but someone decided to
pray over me. All of my sisters laid
their hands on me and prayed for healing.
By this time, I was sobbing. But,
in that moment I also knew, I was not in control. I never was. I am a vessel for God’s love and mercy. That is all that I am. I am not a healer, a miracle worker, the
world’s best behavior changer… I am only a vessel. My yes to adopting K was my yes to being the
person who is charged with the responsibility to teaching God’s endless love to
him. In his best times, but most
importantly, his worst times.
During this year
of change, I was slowly becoming a more humble servant. Understanding my place and my role. Understanding that Shawn and I were not
adoptive superheroes. My grandma had a
saying, “no cross, no crown”. We were
given a gift by God and even though, at times it is a gift I want to return
{lol}, it is my responsibility to love and cherish it. No matter how hard or impossible it may seem.
Learning
this lesson was a gift that helped take me off of my self-made pedestal of
awesome. It also freed me from the
burden of pride. I didn’t have to be the strong one all the time. I didn’t have to have all the answers. I didn’t have to fear the ridicule or
judgement from strangers. The only thing
I have to do is love K and trust in God.
For the
first time since receiving his diagnosis, I felt free. Literally, free to be me. With that sense of freedom, I am slowly
realizing that God loves us all in our imperfections. Much like the fact, that in our own lives, we
love most the people who open their hearts to us. The people who “know it all” or have “all the
answers” are not the people we crave being around. We crave the most humble hearts to share our
lives with. I am not 100% there {just
take a peek at my social media rantings on abortion and politics and you will
realize I have a long way to go} but the important thing is, I am working on
it.
When we
first adopted K I felt like we were saving him.
It took the tiny beginnings of humility to show me that he is truly
saving us. RAD may not be easy but as
we make tiny steps forward with this beautiful boy, I am also noting a RAD-ical
change in my own heart. It is making me
a stronger, kinder and gentler mother.
It is making me see God in the ordinary moments of an extraordinary
story.
To anyone that has ever had any questions,
please visit this website:
http://www.attachmenttraumanetwork.org/
If you would like to watch a great video on
how to better understand parents of RAD kids this is a must see:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5ypmGTGGN7A&feature=youtu.be&app=desktop
If you think your child may be suffering
from RAD, use this link to see the questionnaire that begins the process of
diagnosis:
