Love, Loss, and Ambiguous Grief in Parenting With Reactive Attachment Disorder
- Micaela Myers
- Jul 28
- 8 min read

Grief is not just for the dead. As humans, we grieve relationships that have come and gone, and we grieve for pasts we wished were different and futures that will never be.
Author, singer-songwriter and teacher Jamie Anderson put it best: grief is “really just love. It’s all the love you want to give, but cannot. All that unspent love gathers up in the corners of your eyes, the lump in your throat, and in that hollow part of your chest. Grief is just love with no place to go.”
If you are like me — a parent of a child with developmental trauma disorder or reactive attachment disorder — then you are likely grieving the relationship you hoped to have, the child you hoped could accept and return your love, and maybe even the physical presence of that child. Lucy*, who adopted two children from foster care, says, “
As a RAD mom, I grieve something most days.” (*Name changed for privacy.) “Our adopted daughter has been placed out of our home after 14 years of trying to navigate her disorder on our own. This is what is best for our family, but it leaves much to be grieved — the connection I wish we had, the connection to her siblings I wish they had, and the years our family lived in trauma and chaos because we didn’t know what to do. Our family is separated, and our relationships are cautious and strained. I never thought that would be our story. Some people have a life where grief is just a visitor. For us, grief is a member of the family.”
Adoption Loss and the Reality of Reactive Attachment Disorder
Adoption couldn’t exist without loss, something licensed clinical social worker and adoptive mother of two, Christine, knows all too well. One of her children is in an out-of-home placement, and in her private practice she regularly works with patients dealing with significant trauma. “Even the best of adoption stories begins with grief and loss,” Christine explains. “A child can’t be eligible to be adopted without a significant loss in their life. The core of this idea is lost on a large portion of our society and not emphasized to adoptive families. When a child experiences such a significant loss, and then we all just expect that adoption is beautiful and wonderful — and trust will be instant — we discount and invalidate the child’s experiences.” Research affirms that losses are inherent in adoption, underscoring that every adoption includes emotional and relational ruptures — even when the story is framed in hope.
If you are like me — a parent of a child with developmental trauma disorder or reactive attachment disorder — then you are likely grieving the relationship you hoped to have, the child you hoped could accept and return your love, and maybe even the physical presence of that child.
The rainbows-and-unicorns fairytale that so often surrounds adoption ignores the heaping loss all around, setting everyone up for failure. “Our daughter with RAD started out by carrying trauma and grief around as an embryo,” Lucy says. “This is easy to forget when you are handed a precious little infant that you waited so long to finally meet. We used love to try to force the attachment, to help her heal and for our family to feel safe and have peace. As it turns out, the Beatles were very wrong. Love is not, in fact, all we need.”
Why Love Isn’t Enough for Children With Developmental Trauma
Because developmental trauma disorder is a relational disorder, children with reactive attachment disorder often see their new mother as the nurturing enemy. When they trusted earlier caregivers, they were hurt. The closer the new caregiver tries to get, the scarier it feels. To feel safe, the child needs to be in control — they trust only themselves. That dynamic can feel heartbreaking and confusing for adoptive or foster parents eager to pour on love. Learn more about the nurturing enemy concept here.
Our family is separated, and our relationships are cautious and strained. I never thought that would be our story. Some people have a life where grief is just a visitor. For us, grief is a member of the family.
“I remember a few weeks after our child was placed with us, I had a friend telling me I had a ‘glow’ that she assumed was the excitement of adoption,” Christine recalls. “Soon I was Googling ‘post-adoption depression.’ I was too ashamed to ask anyone. There were lots of appointments with therapists, school meetings and case workers. Then there was the ever-present escalation of behaviors that didn’t seem to be present when others were around, so of course I felt crazy. The grief related to adoption began there and continued through the physical attacks, hospitalization and ultimately to the conclusion that our child could not live in our home safely. I don’t get to parent this child the way I had hoped and prayed for, for so long.” Read more about when out-of-home placement is necessary here.
Ambiguous Grief and the Loss of the Relationship You Imagined
Anyone dreaming of being a parent imagines all the things they’ll do with their children and the wonderful, close relationship they’ll have forever and always. Instead, we must grieve the fact that our relationship to our child with developmental trauma may always be distant and strained — if they can safely remain in our homes at all.
Lucy knows grief well. In addition to their two adopted children, she and her husband have four biological children and lost two children as infants. “Grieving the loss of a child through death and grieving a life with a child with RAD are similar in that they feel the same physically in my body, and I don’t get to plan when the big feelings are going to show up,” she shares. “I can be at Costco, laughing with a friend while cramming samples in my face one minute and then, on the way home, I’ll hear a song and suddenly feel the same shaky throat, lump in the chest, tears welling up way I felt 22 years ago standing near my daughter’s grave.”
However, there are differences. The acute pain of burying a child has softened over time, while the family’s struggle with trauma remains a roller coaster. “The RAD part of our story has been very unpredictable and is ever changing; therefore, the feelings surrounding this grief are unpredictable and ever changing,” Lucy says. Christine calls this type of grief ambiguous grief. “We often think of grief relating more to a death, but grief accompanies any loss,” she explains. “With death, there is a finality. With losses like parenting a child with developmental trauma, it’s more the loss of an idea. These parents have to grieve the love they wanted to give to a child who has rejected it. They have to grieve the loss of the image they had of themselves as parents and the future they hoped for, for their children.”
Learn more about ambiguous grief here, a term used to describe the mourning that happens when there is loss without finality — especially relevant for parents of children with developmental trauma.
The rainbows-and-unicorns fairytale that so often surrounds adoption ignores the heaping loss all around, setting everyone up for failure.
Like Lucy, Christine finds her personal grief bubbling up at unexpected times and in surprising ways. “I was in a store and saw two brothers arguing over who got to give their mom her favorite candy, and I ached inside for a child who wanted to want to give me anything. While I have worked to heal through various means, it will still rear up when I see a child lean into their mother or siblings playing together. When we take family vacations that do not include this child, my heart aches.”
The Hidden Isolation of Parenting a Child With Reactive Attachment Disorder
Unfortunately, we often lose support, friends and family along the way, further compounding our grief (read more in our blog post "The Added Trauma of Raising a Child With Developmental Trauma: When Everyone Turns Against You". “When our daughter died, we immediately felt carried by the love and support of our community,” Lucy says. “Our grief was public, relatable. Our family, friends, neighbors and church kept our fridge full and our heads above water. The disenfranchised grief that comes with having a child with RAD is a devastation I didn’t even know existed, even though prior to this I had considered myself a grief expert. Our community is still huge, but our story is very private. And even when I do share with those closest to us, I know it is hard for them to understand or relate. There aren’t greeting cards for the occasion, and nobody offers to make us soup. The feelings have been like a shadow stretching across the parts of me that used to shine the brightest. I sometimes feel unrecognizable even to myself.”
Part of the challenge is that it’s nearly impossible for anyone to truly understand what we’re going through unless they themselves have tried parenting a child with reactive attachment disorder. The disorder shows itself most significantly between the child and their primary caregiver. Those around us are literally just seeing the tip of the iceberg. “As adoptive parents, we often hear ‘Oh, all kids do that,’ which is very much discounting the experience of the family,” Christine says. “While often it is true that most kids lie or talk back occasionally, there are big differences that only families who have walked this journey can understand. So often adoptive parents have to grieve their support system that just doesn’t get it, and we often face the judgment and ridicule of those who once supported us.”
Finding Hope and Support for Families Living With Reactive Attachment Disorder
There are many ways we can begin to understand our grief and start to heal — from listening to podcasts, reading and writing, to seeking therapy or joining support groups. One key ingredient is finding a support system or even an individual who understands what you’re going through.
“Hands down, my biggest support has come from RAD Advocates,” Lucy explains. “The day I finally found the capacity to reach out to RAD Advocates, it felt like my toes were placed at the starting line to a life I could handle — not a perfect life, but a more manageable one. Getting permission from my advocate, Amy VanTine, to ask myself what I need FIRST instead of spending all of my energy on the ‘sickest’ person in our home was a game changer. It allowed us to make some really hard decisions that rescued us all from the crazy train we had been riding far too long. By finding support with RAD Advocates, focusing on my own unmet needs, and keeping my expectations low and slow, I have been able to take the ‘less’ out of ‘hopeless’ and move toward a life that is more than just a constant reaction to trauma.”
Feeling lost on the RAD parenting journey?
You’re not alone — and you don’t have to figure it out on your own. Connect with RAD Advocates to find real answers from those who’ve walked this path, no matter where you are along the journey.
This rings true in many ways. My 26 year old daughter hasn’t spoken to me in years (adopted from Ukraine at age 13) and her 22 year old sister (adopted from Ukraine at age 8) went through 3 years of residential placement. She was doing much better. She was calling me “mom” and reaching out to me almost normally. She even lived with me for 6 weeks. Then, poof! It disappeared over nothing and she moved out. I do feel grief and it’s hard to explain. My 2 bio boys (ages 21 and 23) are saddened too. We were about to go on vacation together and she backed out of that too. Very sad for all.