She Was Pregnant and Addicted to Fentanyl: How Keeping Her Baby Rescued Both Lives.
Pregnant and experiencing intense discomfort, Stephanie Rosell arrived at the hospital emergency room after a serious infection started to spread up her legs. Without a job or home, cut off from her relatives, she lived in a shed she had built in a acquaintance's garden. She was also dependent on fentanyl.
As physicians addressed her infection, she started to feel anxious. Symptoms of withdrawal emerged. She bent over the bedside and threw up.
Stephanie finally broke down. “I have to get out of here. I have to go home and get high.”
She had used fentanyl before arriving at the hospital and had just enough time to get treated before she needed to go home to relapse. She thought she still had several weeks to plan her recovery and give birth.
The medical professional intervened. She told Stephanie she was not allowed to leave.
“I will go,” Stephanie said.
But the doctors would not let her go: the infection in her legs was serious, but doctors had discovered she also had an ruptured membrane. The nurse, Izzie, warned her: if she walked out, she and her baby would face grave danger.
She encouraged the doctor to give Stephanie measured quantities of fentanyl every few hours, knowing that symptoms could threaten her and the baby. Once the baby was born Stephanie would be placed on methadone, a drug that alleviates cravings and is often prescribed in rehabilitation.
After five days, on 12 November 2022, Stephanie had a infant weighing just over four pounds – premature, tiny yet healthy.
When the caregiver questioned if she wanted to cuddle her newborn, Stephanie said “not now.” She was detached. Her pain relief did not work, her previous intake of fentanyl had been given a few hours prior to birth.
She felt unwell. Ill-equipped for parenting. Unworthy.
Stephanie had attempted sobriety repeatedly before birth, and felt awful each time she failed. She felt worthless, berating herself for not being able to overcome the challenge. An OBGYN told her to “simply” stop using. Even her source would not provide to her when she became obviously with child.
“However, I failed,” she said. “I needed help.”
The widespread belief that her affection for her child would make her stop using only led to deeper self-loathing and self-abuse, a impetus for her to relapse. Yet she could not simply will her addiction away, any more than she could will away a persistent condition.
The newborn was transferred to the special care nursery. When Stephanie eventually visited her, she was hooked up to tubes and leads, so little 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 continued to doubt she wanted to be her mother.
Following a brief period she decided to give her child the name the same as her nurse, after the attendant who showed compassion to her.
Nurses and doctors told her about a specialized facility, a innovative treatment home where mothers and their drug-exposed newborns are cared for jointly, not apart.
In much of the US, where a baby is identified with neonatal abstinence syndrome (NAS) regularly, infants are still whisked to NICUs and treated with pharmaceuticals while their mothers face custody evaluations. But a small, growing network of centers like this facility is demonstrating a key fact: when families are kept intact, recovery succeeds, custody cases decrease and future expenses reduce.
It took Stephanie some time to build confidence to call, but she ultimately reached out. After confirming she would be a good fit for the program, care providers came to collect her.
She left the medical center still in detox, fearful and unsure about what would follow.
At Maddie’s Place, Stephanie still feared that authorities would come remove her daughter – even though she was hesitant about parenting. The concern persisted: that at any moment, someone could walk in and separate them.
For the initial fortnight, Stephanie stayed withdrawn. “I avoided interaction,” she said. “I didn’t have a lot of trust at that point.”
Homelessness, she said, was about survival. Drugs came first; trust came last.
Stephanie had one close friend, but even that bond was fragile. The individuals she cared for always found ways to let her down. She lacked the ability to care for herself, let alone anyone else.
Each day, staff from Maddie’s Place transported her to a treatment center, given as medication. Slowly, she was starting to get clean.
She spent every minute when not in sessions with Izzie, and could see that her baby was obtaining necessary support she needed. Her girl had some trouble feeding at first, with intolerance to some formulas and severe digestive problems. She needed nutritional guidance. She also had sensory challenges and required an specialist – all common issues for babies affected by withdrawal.
Seeing that even a young person understands the need for care, then I found the strength. I would become a mother.
On a day prior to the holiday, Stephanie sat in the visitation area, where individuals struggling with substance use can come for monitored interactions with their babies. Katie Bunch-Smith, a mentor, visited with her own five kids in tow to bring treats. They all crowded near Stephanie, who was resting on the carpet holding Izzie.
The young ones stared in wonder 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 dressed in casual attire, a cap with a decoration on her head, resting on the floor with the exit nearby. She is slender. Her face is downcast so you do not see her expression. She is holding Izzie up on her leg for the young ones to see and they are standing close, fawning and reaching out to the baby.
Jacob, eight, asked the mothers: “What about the fathers?” The parents responded that the men were occupied, engaged elsewhere, that they would be there given the chance.
“In the future,” Jacob said, “I will excel as a father. They will know they are valued.”
Stephanie and her companion made eye contact. “I became emotional,” Stephanie said. “Seeing that even youth understand that these babies deserve to be loved, then I found the courage. I would become a mother.”
Methods to address drug-exposed newborns have been available for years.
The evaluation method was created in 1975|
