RAD and Hope

I've written before about my issues with a Reactive Attachment Order (RAD) diagnosis; that it is overused and the prevalence of associating RAD with all challenging behavior seen by adoptive families both dilutes those who are actually dealing with it and puts an onus of blame on the hurt child. A couple of weeks ago I came across another symptom of the RAD fad that I have been sitting with and am now ready to write about it in a somewhat sane way. (Well, we'll see about the sane part, won't we?)

First some history if you do not know me. For the past sixteen years we have been parenting children who come from some very hard backgrounds. The first five of those years, I was not the optimum parent and instead of helping, I was definitely contributing to the problems we were seeing though I didn't realize it (or actually want to own up to and change if I'm honest). Then due to some significant events, I was forced to confront my part in the whole thing. It wasn't fun, let's just say that. Nor was the solution a quick fix. It was long and slow and painful for all parties. So first off, I've been there where I felt as though there was no hope and that I was doing my best.

Next, with all of the children in our home over the many years we've  been parenting, we've seen some stuff. If you look at the very scary checklists of RAD type behaviors, I can either check every single box or 99% of the boxes. I'm not exaggerating and I'm not making it up. What you have read here over the years is actually the tip of the iceberg because, believe it or not, I don't share everything here on the blog. There were definitely periods where the bravest thing I could do was to simply get out of bed in the morning. There were times when I held absolutely no hope for the future. I had panic attacks, gained weight and lost hair because of the sheer amount of stress I was under, and lived some seasons just holding on. I do not share this to make me into some sort of superhero, because I wasn't and I'm not, but because I want you, the reader, to know I have been in the trenches. I have lived experience of just how hard life can be sometimes. 

I can also say that changing how we parented (along with a good therapist) made all the difference in the world. But here's the kicker, the change had to come from us, the parents. We were the adults and had the capacity to do the hard things. And it was hard... and humbling... and hard. It was also the best thing we have done because it made all the difference in the world. As a result of this, I have spent countless hours on the phone helping to give some hope to hopeless parents who are in the trenches right now. When I was there in that hopeless place, any little bit of hope I could grab onto was like a life line and I'm happy to share our experiences and offer that hope to other families. Now, with the accreditation I have earned over the past couple of years, I have added that coaching to my list of professional endeavors. 

This is all prelude to me offering some encouragement to another family who wanted to talk with other RAD parents. (And I ignored the provocative terminology, I can do it when I'm not letting off some steam here.) I have a shortened form of all that I wrote up above when reaching out to parents that I share, then offer to talk on the phone. The first conversation is always without strings because helping parents is far more important to me than gaining a client. And I was totally rebuffed, with the under current that I cannot know how hard life can be and that they've already tried everything. That's fine, no one needs to talk to me. I know full well I am not everyone's cup of tea. 

But here, after five paragraphs is where I'm going with all of this. What frustrates me and saddens me to no end is the whole RAD culture. This isn't the children, this is the parents. A culture that wants to join together, not to offer hope and ways to encourage healing, but to moan together about what a shambles their lives are now and how unfair it all is. A culture that places the blame fully on the hurting child. A culture that tacitly says there is no hope and all you can do is make it until the child turns 18. Actually, this infuriates me. 

Yes, this type of parenting is hard. Actually, hard doesn't even begin to describe it. It's more like hard on steroids. Yes, every parent in the trenches needs someone to listen and support them. But what I found most helpful were friends who would listen and support without getting stuck in a fixed mindset about the situation or joining me in blaming whichever child I was hyperventilating about. There is supporting and there is enabling of blame and misery. 

We have seen the healing that can take place when you take the time to meet the child where they are. We have seen the healing that can take place when you can stop blaming the child and start to be on the child's team. We have seen healing... significant, life altering, family enriching healing. There. Is. Hope. If you are willing to upend everything you know and believe about parenting in order to get there.

Here's one more thing I've learned over the years of talking with parents. Often I will hear that parents have "tried connected parenting and it didn't work." Then, when I talk to them and ask questions, it turns out that their version of connected parenting isn't actually all that connected. So forgive me if I take the "we tried it, it didn't work" with a grain of salt. 

One caveat. There are children who do have genuine and extreme Reactive Attachment Disorder. It is rare. It is horrible for all parties involved. Often separation of the child from the family is about the only thing that can be done. It is the tragic result of children (and their adoptive families) paying the price for adults doing untold damage by abuse and neglect. I want to be clear that these are not the children and families I am referring to in this post. 

I grieve for the children in families who have given up. I also grieve for the parents who are so entrenched in their own despair and pain that they cannot see another path. All I can do is continue to offer encouragement and experience because sometimes people accept it. And those that respond with vitriol show that people in pain and fear do not act in pleasant ways. Behavior is communication, even in parents. 

This is actually a very long post with one point: THERE IS HOPE.