A Pregnant Woman's Battle with Fentanyl Addiction: Choosing Motherhood Transformed Their Futures.
Eight months pregnant and in severe pain, the expectant mother arrived at the ER after an infection began spreading up her legs. Jobless and without shelter, cut off from her relatives, she resided in a small structure she had constructed in a friend’s yard. She was also addicted to fentanyl.
As doctors treated her infection, she began to panic. Symptoms of withdrawal emerged. She slumped forward and vomited.
Stephanie finally broke down. “I need to leave. I have to go home and use drugs.”
She had used fentanyl before arriving at the hospital and had only a brief window to get treated before she was compelled to leave to use once more. She thought she still had a month remaining to find a way to become sober and have this baby.
The nurse had other ideas. She told Stephanie she was staying put.
“Yes, I am,” Stephanie said.
But the doctors would not let her go: the condition in her limbs was serious, but medical staff detected she also had an ruptured membrane. The nurse, Izzie, warned her: if she departed, she and her baby would not survive.
The nurse convinced the doctor to give Stephanie measured quantities of fentanyl every few hours, knowing that withdrawal could endanger her and the baby. Once the baby was born Stephanie would be placed on methadone, a drug that alleviates cravings and is frequently utilized in addiction recovery.
A short time later, on the 12th of November, Stephanie delivered a daughter weighing 4lb 8oz – early, small but alive.
When the attendant inquired if she wanted to cuddle her newborn, Stephanie said “no.” She was numb. Her anesthesia was ineffective, her last dose of fentanyl had been given shortly before she gave birth.
She felt ill. Ill-equipped for parenting. Unworthy.
Stephanie had attempted sobriety repeatedly before birth, and felt awful each time she was unsuccessful. She felt without value, blaming herself for not being able to overcome the challenge. An obstetrician told her to “simply” stop using. Even her supplier refused to sell to her when she became obviously with child.
“However, I failed,” she said. “I needed help.”
The widespread belief that her bond with her newborn would make her stop using only led to greater shame and self-abuse, a cause for her to use again. Yet she could not simply will her addiction away, any more than she could eliminate a chronic disease.
The baby was taken to the NICU. When Stephanie at last met her, she was attached to medical equipment, so little she thought she would hurt her. Embracing her at last, she felt nothing. “I gazed upon her and was like, ‘How will I care for you?’” She continued to doubt she wanted to be her mother.
Two days later she decided to call her daughter the same as her nurse, after the professional who provided support to her.
Hospital staff told her about Maddie’s Place, a new kind of care center where women and their babies are cared for jointly, not apart.
In much of the US, where a baby is diagnosed with newborn addiction symptoms regularly, infants are still quickly moved to hospitals and given drugs while their mothers face custody evaluations. But a developing system of centers like this facility is proving a simple point: when parents and infants remain united, results get better, custody cases decrease and future expenses reduce.
It took Stephanie a while to gather the courage to call, but she finally did. After ensuring she qualified for the program, care providers came to bring her to the facility.
She left the medical center still in detox, fearful and unsure about what would follow.
At the facility, Stephanie still was concerned that child services would come seize her child – even though she was not sure she wanted to keep her. The anxiety remained: that at any time, someone could enter and remove her child.
For the initial fortnight, Stephanie stayed withdrawn. “I didn’t really want anything to do with any of them,” she said. “I didn’t have a lot of trust at that point.”
Life on the streets, she said, was about getting by. Drugs came first; faith came last.
Stephanie had a single companion, but even that relationship was delicate. The individuals she cared for always found ways to cause pain. She lacked the ability to love herself, not to mention anyone else.
Every day, staff from the facility drove her to a treatment center, provided orally. Gradually, she was starting to get clean.
She spent every minute outside treatment with Izzie, and could see that her baby was getting the specialized care she needed. Her girl had some trouble feeding at first, with intolerance to some formulas and severe digestive problems. She needed feeding therapy. She also had heightened sensory issues and required an occupational therapist – all frequent conditions for babies born with NAS.
When a child recognizes these infants need affection, then I found the strength. I could parent.
One afternoon before Thanksgiving, Stephanie sat in the visitation area, where parents in active addiction can come for guided meetings with their babies. An advocate, a peer support specialist, stopped by with her own five kids in tow to drop off cookies. They all gathered around Stephanie, who was seated on the ground holding Izzie.
The young ones stared in awe of the tiny infant in Stephanie’s arms. “They were innocent,” Stephanie said. “My past did not matter to them. Such issues were irrelevant.”
She keeps a photo of the moment. She is clad in black pants and a hoodie, a gray knit hat with a bobble on her head, resting on the floor with the door behind her. She is lean. Her face is downcast so you cannot see her face. She is holding Izzie up on her leg for the young ones to see and they are gathered around, showing interest to the baby.
Jacob, eight, asked the moms: “Why are there no men?” The moms tried to explain that the fathers had obligations, engaged elsewhere, that they would be there given the chance.
“When I have kids,” Jacob said, “I will excel as a father. I’m gonna show them that they deserve to be loved.”
Stephanie and her companion looked at each other. “I broke down,” Stephanie said. “Seeing that even youth understand that newborns require care, then I found the courage. I could be a mom.”
Tools for treating infants affected by substances have existed for decades.
The evaluation method was established in 1975|
