NAVIGATING REACTIVE
ATTACHMENT DISORDER… AND SUCCEEDING!
By Gina Heumann
We knew something was off right away.
We had just traveled 2700 miles to pick up our second child in Guatemala
– our second adoption from the same country. Our first baby, Landrey, was
incredibly easy, so much so that my friends called him “The Stepford Child”. We
were convinced his awesome behavior was due to our stellar parenting, so we
assumed that new baby Maddox would be just as easy.
Ha!
We didn’t know the signs to look for back then and had never heard of
attachment disorders. We chose Guatemala because we could get babies as young
as 4 months, and assumed if there were any issues before we picked him up, we
would be able to fix them with love and attention. Boy, were we mistaken!
From the beginning, Maddox was a fussy baby. He didn’t make eye contact
and didn’t smile easily. In fact, we discovered as he got a little older that
the only way to get a picture of him smiling was to have someone chase him
while another person set up the camera and tried to capture him as he was
running past.
He didn’t sleep. It seemed the planets had to align in order to get him
down, and my husband spent several hours every night putting him to bed. For years.
He awoke at least 4-5 times a night until he was eleven.
Even at 6 months old, the kid was DIVING across the table to grab our
food. It was then (and after meeting a completely detached foster mom) that I
started to suspect he was neglected before we adopted him.
As he grew older, we started to experience intense meltdowns. Like
REALLY intense. He could scream for four hours over something as silly
as asking us to play a song again – on the radio. If we were unable to fulfill
his requests, he would scream. And scream. And scream. And then throw
things – whatever was within arms length, and when I figured out to keep items
out of reach, he’d take off his shoes and throw them. As time went on, he would
destroy property – TVs, computers, lamps, car windshields, you name it. If we
put him in timeout in his room, he would throw the lamp, the table, even take
pictures off the wall and smash them so that the floor was covered in glass.
He’d throw things at me, punch holes in the door, pull my hair. At one point,
he punched me in the face. At 3am. While I was sleeping. Because I took away
his video games eight hours earlier.
We were at a loss. We tried therapy. In the beginning, they assumed it
was a parenting issue and offered us behavioral charts, marbles, stickers. You
know, the techniques that work for “regular” kids. All of them worked on my
first son. NONE of them worked on Maddox.
Over time, we tried other types of therapy: individual therapy, group
therapy, family therapy, in-home therapy (which is really weird – a therapist
comes to your home and tries to be invisible while you go about your business
and pretend he’s not there… then he interferes as necessary. So uncomfortable!)
We took parenting classes. We tried homeopathy, neurofeedback, nutritionists,
and even the Brain Balance program.
He was eventually kicked out of school, sent in handcuffs to the
Juvenile Assessment Center, appeared in court, and had to serve a summer of
community service at the ripe old age of 12. That felt like rock bottom to me.
I have never felt so helpless and alone in my whole life. Strangers in
the grocery store witnessing a public meltdown would assume I was a terrible
parent. Most of the time I could tell by the looks on their faces, but on rare
occasions, they’d tell me right to my face. “You should be embarrassed. You’re
failing as a mother”, said one lovely woman who was “only trying to help.” UGH.
Not until we identified a proper diagnosis 10 years in were we able to
find an expert in Reactive Attachment Disorder. With this doctor’s help, we
were finally able to find some peace for our family. We did a family intensive
therapy that lasted two solid weeks, four hours a day, with four therapists,
and all four of us. This experience was hard… probably the most intense and
soul-searching thing I’ve ever done, but over time, we realized that this
therapeutic effort was the greatest money we’ve ever spent on our family.
We also found Maddox a school that was designed for kids with social,
behavioral and academic challenges. The environment offered incredibly small
class sizes, experiential learning, meditation and yoga, a social worker on
staff who met with them every day, and even a weekly visit from the school
therapy dog.
That was three years ago. Today, Maddox is doing amazing. He’s finishing
up his freshman year at the public high school, which he chose primarily
because he wanted to be in a marching band. Music has been great for him, and
he’s now a member of six different bands both at his school and in the metro
area. He is playing both the tuba and the bass trombone. Smallest kid, biggest
instrument. He loves it!
We haven’t seen a violent incident in over two years and he’s incredibly
mellow now. His grades have improved. He has a group of friends. He even has a
girlfriend, who he’s been meeting at the mall or the library for almost a year.
Life is good.
I’m so proud to have a success story to share. Our journey wasn’t easy,
and I wouldn’t wish RAD on my worst enemy, but I’m happy to say that we never
quit searching for answers and trying new alternatives. I love this kid with
all my heart. And love never quits.
About the Author
Her latest book is Love Never
Quits: Surviving & Thriving After Infertility, Adoption, and Reactive
Attachment Disorder.
Website Link: www.ginaheumann.com
Facebook Link: https://www.facebook.com/loveneverquits
About the Book:
WHACK…
At three in the morning Gina was sound asleep, yet somehow she was smacked in
the head. She looked over at her husband, thinking perhaps he accidentally
rolled over and flopped his
arm on top of her, but he was sleeping soundly and
facing the opposite direction. She turned to the other side and glaring back at
her was her eight-year-old child.
“Did
you just hit me?”
“Yes,
and I’d do it again.”
“Whyyyy?”
“Because
you took away my video games.”
“That
was EIGHT HOURS AGO. And you’re still mad about it?”
“I
wish I could kill you.”
This
is the true story of the hell one family lived through parenting a child with
reactive attachment disorder, a severe diagnosis related to children who
experienced early-childhood trauma.
This
inspirational story covers over a decade of daily struggles until they finally
found resolution and made it to the other side. The family remained intact, and
this once challenging son is now achieving things never thought possible.
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