“Are you the person who’s going to bring my mom back?” she asked.

Gómez struggled to find an answer. It was a December morning, and she’d brought food, diapers, baby wipes, and clothes — items she hoped would help the 6-year-old girl, her baby brother, and the neighbor who had stepped in to care for them. The children were left alone after federal immigration agents arrested their parents outside their apartment in Oxnard, a mostly Latino agricultural community on the Southern California coast. But Gómez had no power to bring the parents back.

“We’re working on that,” Gómez recalled telling the girl. In reality, she was at a loss for how to answer truthfully without upsetting her.

As a project manager for a nonprofit that provides food assistance to immigrant families affected by Immigration and Customs Enforcement raids, Gómez has witnessed the tumult and pain that have roiled the lives of since President Donald Trump returned to office, with devastating consequences for children’s health. They include an estimated with at least one parent detained by immigration authorities through April, a number that has undoubtedly climbed since. Separation from parents harms children psychologically. It destabilizes families, often leaving the remaining parent or caregiver scrambling to stay housed, buy food, and fulfill kids’ medical needs. Some kids are to care for themselves.

Many kids whose parents aren’t detained are experiencing threats to their health and well-being too. Two children in the South in February 2025 after reportedly being bullied over their family’s alleged immigration status.

Millions of children live in families losing access to , , , and other supports as roll back eligibility for immigrants with and without legal status. Fear of federal enforcement has pushed parents to avoid , going to the doctor, and . Some have disenrolled from or avoided signing kids up for health and nutrition programs.

Children from immigrant backgrounds are also . They’re experiencing more , increased , and anxiety about , even when they or their family members are citizens or legal residents.

Most of these children are American citizens. About have an immigrant parent, including around 4.6 million with a parent who lacks legal status.

“I’m really concerned about how long it’s going to take for us as a country to address all of the harm that’s happening to this generation of kids,” said Wendy Cervantes, director of immigration and immigrant families at the . “This type of stress can have long-term developmental harm and can really inhibit their ability to do well in school, to have good health outcomes, and to grow into thriving, stable adults.”

Curbing Public Benefits

Trump has made cracking down on immigrants — including the children of immigrants — a priority since his second term began last year. On Inauguration Day, he issued an purporting to end birthright citizenship for kids born to parents without legal status or in the country on temporary visas, an attempt ultimately blocked by the Supreme Court.

His administration, with the approval of Republicans in Congress, has into immigration enforcement, detaining the parents of an estimated 145,000 U.S. citizen children as of April, and, according to an analysis by nonprofit newsroom The Marshall Project, . It’s sought to rescind , or TPS, for over 1 million immigrants, tens of thousands of whom have U.S. citizen children, and in the Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals program, which includes the parents of about .

White House officials say the immigration crackdown by freeing up resources such as jobs and housing, reducing pressure on public coffers, expelling criminals, and restoring integrity to the immigration system. (Studies have shown that mass deportations .) Trump and other Republican leaders have argued that birthright citizenship and “,” and that TPS has allowed immigrants from “” to remain in the United States indefinitely under what is supposed to be a temporary program.

In a statement, White House spokesperson Lauren Bis did not directly address whether the administration is concerned about long-term harm to children and increased healthcare costs because of its immigration policies. Instead, she repeated past White House criticisms that President Joe Biden’s immigration policies allowed children to be trafficked across the U.S. border.

“The real story is the psychiatric impact on the tens of thousands of children who were smuggled across the border — many by human and sex traffickers,” she wrote in an email.

Only 39% of Americans approve of Trump’s handling of immigration, according to a recent Associated Press-NORC Center for Public Affairs Research poll.

Stephen Miller, the chief architect of Trump’s immigration policies, has accused the children of immigrants of draining public resources and perpetuating problems from their parents’ home countries. Research, however, shows that immigrants and the longer they live in the United States and that they and their children . Data also shows they than native-born Americans.

“This is the great lie of mass migration,” on the social platform X in November. “You are not just importing individuals. You are importing societies. No magic transformation occurs when failed states cross borders. At scale, migrants and their descendants recreate the conditions, and terrors, of their broken homelands.”

The Republican tax-and-spending law enacted last summer curbs immigrant eligibility for health and food assistance programs. And this July, the administration issued new “public charge” rules that give immigration officers broad discretion to deny green cards to lawfully present immigrants if they or family members have used public benefit programs, a move that could result in U.S. citizen children disenrolling from safety net healthcare programs.

Together but Afraid

Separation from parents is and can lead to , including anxiety, depression, cardiovascular disease, and learning difficulties. Children separated from their parents at the border during the first Trump administration were found to exhibit . Researchers have also tied deportations and detentions of immigrant parents — as well as the threat of them — to widespread , higher , , among both immigrant and U.S.-born children.

It’s also costly to society. A by federal researchers estimated that health conditions related to childhood trauma accounted for $292 billion in healthcare spending in 2021 alone, including by taxpayer-funded programs such as Medicaid and Medicare.

Emmanuel, a 13-year-old in Oxnard, gets anxious every time his dad goes to work as a farm laborer, his mother, Ana, said. He asks her for reassurance that his father will return, and about what would happen to him if his parents got detained. He tries to hurry Ana up when they’re out in public, worried that ICE could suddenly appear. Ñî¹óåú´«Ã½Ò•îl Health News is not using their full names because they fear deportation.

Doctors and therapists interviewed by Ñî¹óåú´«Ã½Ò•îl Health News said they have observed a notable increase in mental health problems, especially anxiety, in children from immigrant families. Kimberly McNally, a pediatrician at Venice Family Clinic’s Inglewood South La Brea Health Center, said she’s regularly referring children of all ages for mental health services related to fears that their parents will be taken away. At daycares, kids have been showing up with an extra bag in case their parents don’t pick them up, said Liza Davis, advocacy director for Children in Immigrant Families at The Children’s Partnership, which works with a coalition of early childhood educators.

Sometimes, the distress leads young people to take extreme actions. In June, 19-year-old Eliel José after his father was deported from the Atlanta area to Mexico, according to Univision.

Rosie Harrison, executive director of Grow Initiative GA, a community organization that serves low-income families, said she’s received calls over the past year from immigrant parents seeking help for suicidal and depressed kids. Their situations are often made worse because many lack health insurance and can’t afford to pay for therapy. That’s often because parents have lost jobs that came with health insurance due to worksite raids or because of eligibility changes imposed by the Trump administration.

“I’m concerned about the families that are going to be burying their child,” Harrison said. “I’m concerned that we are going to miss out on having an amazing person do amazing things for our community, for our country, because they took their life.”

Strength Under Pressure

Many children are showing resilience, though.

In a role reversal, some children have become their parents’ protectors. They go grocery shopping and take their younger siblings to school so that their parents don’t have to leave the house.

Giselle Gonzalez, a university student and volunteer with the immigrant protection network VC Defensa in Ventura County, California, said she’ll never forget the morning last summer when she woke up to the sound of kids on bicycles pedaling through her immigrant-heavy neighborhood in Thousand Oaks, yelling “La migra! La migra! Don’t come out!” They’d spotted ICE agents grabbing factory workers and gardeners on their way to work, she said.

Neighbors, community groups, health providers, and others have also in a to support children and families affected by immigration enforcement. They , provide , , and help parents create in case they get detained or deported.

Ultimately, more humane immigration policies and enforcement tactics will be required to end the harm being done to children, academic experts and advocates said.

Researchers at point to a pilot called the as a model for keeping families together while also enforcing immigration laws. Launched in January 2016 under President Barack Obama, the program allowed families seeking asylum to remain in the community while awaiting resolution of their cases. Through a case manager, they received support in meeting the obligations of their immigration cases and preparing for deportation if needed. The program, which and cost-effective, was terminated by the first Trump administration.

At Venice Family Clinic in Los Angeles, case manager Mabel Alavez sees the pressures facing families who are still together but worried they could be separated. Many of the people are parents or grandparents who have been in the U.S. for decades. Some are afraid to take their children to school, the park, or the beach. They ask whether it’s safe to enroll their U.S.-born kids in Medicaid. She helps families who are facing eviction because they’re afraid to go to work and can no longer afford rent. She often helps them create plans for who will look after their children if they get detained.

Raised in an immigrant family herself, Alavez knows how challenging it can be for kids who are first-generation Americans to navigate growing up, going to school, and finding a sense of belonging in a country their parents aren’t from.

“It’s hard for me to imagine how they could possibly do that in addition to what’s going on now,” she said. “I do feel like there will be a big impact on them. What that might look like, I’m not exactly sure.”

This article first appeared on Ñî¹óåú´«Ã½Ò•îl Health News and is republished here under a .

His aunt sat at the dining table, sobbing. His father, who’d walked him to the bus stop that morning and promised to take him to dinner when he got back, wasn’t there.

Saúl Zermeño, a 45-year-old single dad, had gone to a routine check-in appointment at an Immigration and Customs Enforcement office that morning, a requirement he’d complied with for years. The father had deferred action that allowed him to stay and work in the U.S., according to his attorney. But that day, Oct. 3, officers deported him to Mexico, where he hadn’t lived since he was 9 years old. Zermeño had been Damian’s sole caregiver since he was a baby because his mother chose not to be involved in the boy’s life, the family said.

Suddenly, Damian, who was born in the U.S., found himself separated from his father by thousands of miles and a heavily guarded border. The previously cheerful 10th grader, who doesn’t have a driver’s license and can make a few basic dishes but isn’t used to cooking for himself, faced navigating his teenage years alone, his dad’s presence reduced to a two-dimensional image on his phone.

“I thought it wasn’t true,” Damian said. “I just went to my room. I didn’t want to leave. I didn’t even want to eat.”

Damian is among an estimated , most of them U.S. citizens, separated from a parent by the Trump administration’s deportation policies. Their mothers and fathers have been deported or locked for months inside detention centers, often from where their families live. These children are separated, , from the adults they depend on. Parents have been arrested while , , and at immigration check-ins with their children present. Most people detained have . (Being in the U.S. without authorization is typically a civil offense). With their parents gone, kids’ lives are plunged into fear and uncertainty.

As a result, a generation of children from immigrant families are exhibiting mental health problems that could .

Parents, therapists, and others who work with immigrant families said they’ve already encountered preschoolers with speech delays, elementary school children who talk of suicide, and teenagers too anxious to leave the house. Research has shown repeatedly that separating children from their parents . The stress of losing a primary caregiver creates havoc in a child’s brain and body, increasing their risk for mental and physical health problems, including depression, anxiety, post-traumatic stress disorder, a weakened immune system, and developmental delays.

“You can just see it in their faces; it’s almost like the light has been dimmed in their eyes,” said the Rev. Tanya Lopez, a pastor at Downey Memorial Christian Church who regularly visits immigrant families as part of a made up of Los Angeles-area religious leaders.

The health risks from this stress response are long-term. People who experience parental separation and other traumatic events as children are heart disease, diabetes, cancer, and other chronic conditions as adults.

In a statement, the Department of Homeland Security said ICE does not separate families, and that parents are asked if they want to be removed from the country with their children or to designate a safe person for them to stay with in the U.S.

However, by the Women’s Refugee Commission and Physicians for Human Rights found that many parents aren’t given that choice, and that ICE often doesn’t ask detainees if they have children or take steps to ensure that children left behind are safe. Saúl Zermeño said ICE officers didn’t ask about his son or check on Damian’s well-being when he was deported.

For days after his father’s deportation, Damian didn’t want to leave his room, eat, or go to school. He stopped talking to his friends. He stopped playing his favorite video game, Fears To Fathom. When he returned to school a week later, the teenager would cry in class or walk out overwhelmed with sadness. Even his favorite subject — English — lost its appeal.

Damian and his father were inseparable; family members joked that they never saw one without the other. Zermeño took Damian, who has attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder, autism, and other health conditions, to his medical appointments. He cooked for him and combed his hair. He loved to take Damian to his favorite Thai restaurant or to get boba drinks after school. As much as they joked around and played pranks on each other, Zermeño also taught Damian the importance of work by bringing him along to construction jobs and to find supplies at Home Depot.

Damian used to get annoyed with his father’s motivational chats about responsibility. Now they’re one of the things he misses most.

“I thank my dad every day for teaching me to be strong before he left,” Damian said.

Elsewhere in Los Angeles, Jacob, a shy 9-year-old with cropped, curly hair, skinny limbs, and a serious expression, was missing his mom. On a Saturday in May, he clung tightly to his father’s hand as they walked among homeless people, street peddlers, and the stench of urine that hangs in the air outside the building where they live in a cramped apartment. He hoped his mom would soon be released from immigration detention so that he could hug her again.

“If my mom was here, I’d be happy,” he said. “Right now, I’m not.”

Jacob is in some ways a typical 9-year-old. He likes playing Roblox and Street Fighter. He dreams of becoming a police officer and of owning a guard dog, “because you can train them and they defend you.”

But he also endured a harrowing journey, even before being separated from his mom in January. Jacob’s family fled their home country of Colombia in 2024 because members of a paramilitary group threatened to kill them, his father, Andreis, said. During their journey to the United States, Jacob saw dead bodies while trekking through the jungle, was kidnapped and robbed at gunpoint with his parents, witnessed a rape, and had to sell candy and beg for money, his dad said. Ñî¹óåú´«Ã½Ò•îl Health News is not using the father’s or son’s real name because the family fears it would jeopardize their asylum cases.

After the family arrived in Los Angeles, Jacob suffered from nightmares and an intense fear of being alone. He started to recover once he began attending school and got connected to therapy through the school district, his dad said. For a short while, the family felt they had found peace.

Then, immigration officers detained Jacob’s mother at a check-in appointment while he and Andreis sat in the waiting room. The mother has a pending asylum application and no criminal record, Andreis said. The father said he and his son broke down when officers informed them of his wife’s detention, handing them a bag with her wallet and cellphone. They returned home without her, leaving Jacob inconsolable.

“He was terrified,” the father said, fighting back tears, his voice growing quiet as he recounted that moment. “He was crying with rage.”

After that, Jacob didn’t want to eat or go to school. When he went to school at his dad’s insistence, his teacher called home to ask why he was crying in class. Jacob couldn’t sleep. He acted out. He blamed his dad.

“When will my mom come back?” he asked his dad. “Why do they have my mom? I miss my mom.”

At the same time, Andreis said, he was going through his own crisis, trying in vain to console his son while wrestling with grief, worry, and desperation over what happened to his wife. He stopped his work as a laborer for two weeks to take care of Jacob, but that created financial stress and meant he sometimes couldn’t afford to fund his wife’s commissary account so she could buy better food and make phone calls. Jacob lived for those phone calls.

Jacob listed all the things he missed about his mom, including her cooking (rice with meat, corn cakes with egg), visiting the park together, and her taking him to get his hair cut, treating him to McDonald’s on the weekend, and bringing him to church. Most of all, he missed being close to her.

“I would lie down with her, and I’d watch videos with her,” he said. “My mom would hug me and I’d hug her.”

Sometimes he sprayed her perfume on himself so he could smell her.

After almost five months at the Adelanto ICE Processing Center, Jacob’s mother was released based on a habeas corpus petition in May. The family is still living in fear of detention or deportation. The father worries he too could be detained, and what that would mean for Jacob. Andreis is currently appealing a removal order for the two of them.

A published by the Brookings Institution estimates that over 200,000 children — including 145,000 U.S. citizen children — have likely had at least one parent detained since President Donald Trump returned to office. About a third of those children are under age 6. The number of children with detained parents is expected to grow as the federal government pours over $200 billion into immigration enforcement, including funding from the GOP’s and a appropriation Trump signed this month.

More than 4.6 million U.S. citizen children live with a parent at risk of deportation, according to the report.

Families Broken

Noemi, a Guatemalan mother and asylum seeker, stood in the parking lot at an ICE office north of Los Angeles, her three children wailing and clinging to her, glass from the family’s car scattered at their feet.

Moments earlier, immigration agents had smashed a window and forced her partner out of the car while he waited for Noemi and the kids to finish a check-in appointment. While they were inside, officers tried to separate Noemi from the couple’s children, ages 9, 7, and 1, but gave up after the kids started screaming, Noemi said. Meanwhile, her partner, a Mexican national who’s lived in the U.S. for almost 20 years, was sent to the ICE detention center in Adelanto.

“It was something tragic, something inexplicable that happened that day,” said Noemi, who asked to withhold her full name because she fears government retaliation for sharing her story. “It’s something that marks you for your whole life. My family was broken.”

Located in the Mojave Desert, the privately run Adelanto ICE Processing Center is the immigration detention center closest to Los Angeles and in the U.S. It held a daily average of as of April, and a facility next door called the Desert View Annex held an additional 426.

Since her partner’s detention in December, Noemi said, their children haven’t been the same.

Her 7-year-old daughter, till then usually happy and smiling, became depressed and refused to eat. Her once-high grades plummeted, and she forgot the names of letters and numbers in both English and Spanish. She and her 9-year-old brother struggled to sleep and asked constantly about their dad, wondering if he was taken because they’d done something wrong.

“Why is this happening to us?” they asked her. “We’re good. We’re studying.”

Noemi’s youngest daughter went back to crawling for three months, even though she’d already learned to walk before her father was taken. The little girl would cry out in her sleep, “Pa! Pa!”

Sofia Mendoza, a therapist who works with immigrant families at a community clinic in Los Angeles County, said separated children can experience a form of grief. It’s hard for them to come to terms with their parent’s absence because the parent is still alive, but not with them. This can disrupt the child’s bond with that parent and their ability to form trusting relationships in the future, she said.

Many children also become extremely anxious, angry, and fearful, Mendoza said. Young children often complain of physical symptoms such as stomachaches, develop separation anxiety, and regress to earlier behaviors like bed-wetting. Older children may have panic attacks, nightmares, and difficulty focusing, Mendoza said. Caregiver loss is also associated with and substance use in children.

Norma Gómez, a project manager for the Mixteco Indigena Community Organizing Project in Oxnard, said after immigration raids shook the community last summer, her 9-year-old daughter refused to go to school for a week and was afraid to leave her mom and dad, even though they’re legal U.S. residents. She’d seen other kids at school crying because family members had been detained. Gómez showed her daughter their U.S. residency documents to reassure her. The child asked to make copies for her classmates, hoping they would protect them too.

‘Time To Be an Adult’

Back in East Los Angeles, Damian is living with one of his aunts and struggling to adapt to not having his father around. He said his grades have dropped because he can’t focus in school. He no longer wants to do things he used to enjoy with his dad, such as going out to eat.

“Fun is over,” he said. “It’s time to be an adult right now.”

Being without his father has forced Damian to become more independent, he and his aunt Claudia Zermeño said. Before, his dad did almost everything for him. Now, Damian does his own laundry, helps with housework, and styles his own hair. He’s protective of his aunts, who are both devastated by their brother’s absence; he hugs them frequently and tells jokes to try to cheer them up. He doesn’t want to upset them more by showing his own sadness.

Damian receives therapy both in and outside of school. He said he’s learned breathing exercises that have helped, but he still feels sad and worried a lot of the time. Sometimes he feels angry.

“I try my hardest to think, to stay focused,” he said. “But with everything that’s going on, I can’t keep the facade of ‘everything’s normal’ when I feel heartbroken.”

Saúl Zermeño, now living in Guadalajara, said he’s worried about his son’s health. Damian has a genetic condition called , which causes tumors to grow on nerve tissue in his body, including one in his head that, if not checked regularly by a doctor and monitored by his family, could interfere with his brain. He also suffers from epilepsy and was born with only one kidney, which means he tires easily and doesn’t play sports. Saúl is afraid his son won’t get the care he needs without him there. As Damian’s legal guardian, Claudia Zermeño is doing everything she can for him, but she has two children of her own and is also caring for her mother, who has neurological problems from a stroke.

Damian talks with his dad as often as he can. He hopes to visit his father in Mexico, but he doesn’t have a passport and, as a minor under 16, there are more requirements to get one without his dad present. Saúl is working with an attorney to get permission to legally return to the U.S., but the process is complicated and uncertain.

So, for now, Damian’s hanging on to hope that his dad will be allowed to return and is trying to become the man he believes he should be. He’s making plans to get his driver’s license when he turns 16 this month. He’s given up his goal of going to college and instead wants to get a job right after high school to help his aunts and send money to his dad.

He still cries, but only when he’s alone in his room.

This article first appeared on Ñî¹óåú´«Ã½Ò•îl Health News and is republished here under a .