🔗 Share this article She Was Pregnant and Addicted to Fentanyl: How Keeping Her Baby Rescued Both Lives. Pregnant and experiencing intense discomfort, Stephanie Rosell visited the ER after an infection began spreading up her legs. Unemployed and homeless, separated from loved ones, she resided in a small structure she had constructed in a companion's property. She was also addicted to fentanyl. As medical staff managed her infection, she began to panic. Symptoms of withdrawal emerged. She bent over the bedside and became sick. Stephanie ultimately gave in. “I have to get out of here. I have to go home and use drugs.” She had used fentanyl before arriving at the hospital and had just enough time to get treated before she had to return to relapse. She thought she still had several weeks to find a way to become sober and have this baby. 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 condition in her limbs was serious, but medical staff detected she also had an ruptured membrane. The nurse, her nurse, warned her: if she walked out, she and her baby would not survive. She encouraged the doctor to give Stephanie controlled doses of fentanyl at regular intervals, knowing that withdrawal could endanger her and the baby. Post-birth Stephanie would be switched to methadone, a medication that eases withdrawal and is often prescribed in addiction recovery. After five days, on 12 November 2022, Stephanie delivered a baby girl weighing a small weight – born before term, little but surviving. When the nurse asked if she wanted to hold her baby, Stephanie said “no.” She was emotionless. Her anesthesia was ineffective, her previous intake of fentanyl had been given a few hours prior to birth. She felt ill. Unprepared to be a mother. Not fit. Stephanie had tried to get clean multiple times while expecting, and felt awful each time she was unsuccessful. She felt hopeless, blaming herself for not being able to overcome the challenge. An OBGYN told her to “just” stop using. Even her source refused to sell to her when she became visibly pregnant. “But I couldn’t,” she said. “I needed help.” The common assumption that her affection for her child would make her recover only led to increased guilt and negative self-talk, a trigger for her to use again. Yet she could not just wish her addiction away, any more than she could will away a chronic disease. The baby was taken to the neonatal intensive care unit. When Stephanie finally saw her her, she was attached to monitors, so small she thought she would hurt her. Holding her for the first time, she felt detached. “I just stared at her and was like, ‘What is our future?’” She still wasn’t sure she wanted to be her mother. After two days she decided to name her baby after her caregiver, after the professional who provided support to her. Medical personnel told her about Maddie’s Place, a innovative treatment home where mothers and their drug-exposed newborns are treated together, not apart. In many parts of America, where a baby is found to have infant withdrawal condition every 18 minutes, infants are still rushed to special care and treated with pharmaceuticals while their mothers face child-protection investigations. But a developing system of centers like Maddie’s Place is demonstrating a key fact: when parents and infants remain united, recovery succeeds, fewer children enter care and long-term costs decline. It took Stephanie some time to build confidence to call, but she eventually made the call. After ensuring she qualified for the program, care providers came to bring her to the facility. She departed the institution still in detox, anxious and doubtful about what would happen next. At Maddie’s Place, Stephanie still was concerned that child services would come take Izzie – even though she was hesitant about parenting. The anxiety remained: that at any time, someone could walk in and take her baby away. For the first two weeks, Stephanie kept to herself. “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 survival. Drugs came first; trust came last. Stephanie had a single companion, but even that bond was fragile. The people she loved always found ways to let her down. She lacked the ability to value herself, let alone anyone else. Each day, staff from the center took her to a recovery program, provided orally. Slowly, she was embracing sobriety. She utilized each moment when not in sessions with Izzie, and could see that her baby was receiving appropriate attention she needed. Her infant faced feeding challenges at first, with intolerance to some formulas and obvious stomach troubles. She needed dietary support. She also had heightened sensory issues and required an occupational therapist – all typical problems for babies exposed to substances. Seeing that even a young person understands the need for care, then I was capable. I could parent. On a day prior to the holiday, Stephanie was in the common room, where individuals struggling with substance use can come for monitored interactions with their babies. A support specialist, a mentor, visited with her own children in tow to deliver baked goods. They all gathered around Stephanie, who was seated on the ground holding Izzie. The kids looked amazed in admiration of the tiny infant in Stephanie’s arms. “They were innocent,” Stephanie said. “They overlooked my addiction. They focused only on the baby.” She has an image of the moment. She is wearing casual attire, a gray knit hat with a bobble on her head, resting on the floor with the exit nearby. She is slender. Her head is tilted forward so you cannot see her face. She is lifting the baby on her leg for the young ones to see and they are crowding near, admiring and touching to the baby. A young boy, eight, asked the mothers: “Why are there no men?” The women attempted to clarify that the fathers had obligations, handling responsibilities, that they would be there if possible. “In the future,” Jacob said, “I’m going to be the best dad ever. I’m gonna show them that they deserve to be loved.” Stephanie and her companion made eye contact. “I broke down,” Stephanie said. “When a child recognized that these babies deserve to be loved, then I was able. I would become a mother.” Methods to address drug-exposed newborns have existed for decades. The evaluation method was developed in 1975|