A Pregnant Woman's Battle with Fentanyl Addiction: The Decision to Keep Her Child Saved Them Both.
In her eighth month of pregnancy and suffering, the expectant mother arrived at the medical facility after an infection began spreading up her legs. Jobless and without shelter, separated from loved ones, she stayed in a makeshift shelter she had constructed in a friend’s yard. She was also hooked on fentanyl.
As doctors treated her infection, she grew increasingly fearful. Withdrawal was setting in. She slumped forward and became sick.
Stephanie ultimately gave in. “Listen, I gotta go. I have to go home and get high.”
She had taken the drug before arriving at the hospital and had sufficient opportunity to get treated before she was compelled to leave to relapse. She thought she still had four weeks left to find a way to become sober and give birth.
The attending nurse disagreed. She told Stephanie she was staying put.
“Yes, I am,” Stephanie said.
But the doctors would not let her go: the infection in her legs was critical, but physicians found she also had an leakage of amniotic fluid. The nurse, her nurse, warned her: if she left, she and her baby would not survive.
Izzie persuaded the doctor to give Stephanie controlled doses of fentanyl every few hours, knowing that abstinence might harm her and the baby. After delivery Stephanie would be switched to methadone, a treatment that reduces symptoms and is frequently utilized in substance abuse treatment.
Five days later, on 12 November 2022, Stephanie gave birth to a baby girl weighing just over four pounds – early, small but alive.
When the caregiver questioned if she wanted to hold her baby, Stephanie said “no.” She was detached. Her pain relief did not work, her previous intake of fentanyl had been administered a few hours prior to birth.
She felt ill. Ill-equipped for parenting. Unworthy.
Stephanie had attempted sobriety multiple times while expecting, and felt horrible each time she failed. She felt worthless, criticizing herself for not being able to overcome the challenge. An obstetrician told her to “simply” stop using. Even her supplier would not provide to her when she became clearly expecting.
“However, I failed,” she said. “I required assistance.”
The widespread belief that her love for her baby would make her quit only led to increased guilt and negative self-talk, a impetus for her to relapse. Yet she could not easily command her addiction away, any more than she could will away a persistent condition.
The infant was moved to the special care nursery. When Stephanie finally saw her her, she was hooked up to medical equipment, so tiny she thought she would hurt her. Embracing her at last, she felt empty. “I gazed upon her and was like, ‘What is our future?’” She still wasn’t sure she wanted to be her mother.
Two days later she decided to name her baby Izzie, after the professional who provided support to her.
Medical personnel told her about Maddie’s Place, a innovative treatment home where women and their babies are cared for jointly, not apart.
In much of the US, where a baby is identified with neonatal abstinence syndrome (NAS) frequently, infants are still quickly moved to hospitals and treated with pharmaceuticals while their mothers face parental assessments. But a small, growing network of centers like the care home is demonstrating a key fact: when mothers and babies stay together, outcomes improve, foster placements fall and long-term costs decline.
It took Stephanie a while to gather the courage to call, but she finally did. After verifying her eligibility for the program, two staff members came to pick her up.
She left the medical center still in recovery, anxious and doubtful about what would follow.
At the care center, Stephanie still feared that child services would come seize her child – even though she was uncertain about motherhood. The fear lingered: that at any moment, someone could arrive and separate them.
For the beginning period, Stephanie stayed withdrawn. “I preferred to be alone,” she said. “I didn’t have a lot of trust at that point.”
Life on the streets, she said, was about enduring. Substances came first; reliance came last.
Stephanie had a trusted ally, but even that connection was tenuous. The individuals she cared for always found ways to hurt her. She was unable to care for herself, not to mention anyone else.
Daily, staff from the facility took her to a treatment center, given as medication. Over time, she was embracing sobriety.
She devoted all her time 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 obvious stomach troubles. She needed dietary support. She also had sensory challenges and required an professional – all frequent conditions for babies exposed to substances.
Seeing that even a young person understands the need for care, then I could do this. I would become a mother.
On a day prior to the holiday, Stephanie was in the common room, where individuals struggling with substance use can come for guided meetings with their babies. An advocate, a recovery coach, visited with her own children in tow to drop off cookies. They all crowded near Stephanie, who was seated on the ground holding Izzie.
The kids looked amazed in awe of the little newborn in Stephanie’s arms. “They were innocent,” Stephanie said. “My past did not matter to them. Such issues were irrelevant.”
She has an image of the moment. She is dressed in casual attire, a cap with a pompom on her head, seated on the ground with the door behind her. She is lean. Her head is tilted forward so you do not see her expression. She is lifting the baby on her lap for the other kids to see and they are gathered around, fawning and reaching out to the baby.
A young boy, eight, asked the parents: “What about the fathers?” The parents responded that the fathers had obligations, called away to other tasks, that they would be there given the chance.
“Once I become a parent,” Jacob said, “I’m going to be the best dad ever. I will teach them about love.”
Stephanie and the specialist made eye contact. “I became emotional,” Stephanie said. “Seeing that even youth understand that these babies deserve to be loved, then I was able. I would become a mother.”
Approaches for managing drug-exposed newborns have been used for a long time.
The evaluation method was developed in 1975|