The First Days Matter: One Infant’s Journey to Safety

I was on call when I received a notification from the hospital that a mother had just given birth and her newborn had tested positive for methamphetamine. The baby was already exhibiting signs of withdrawal. I promptly went to the hospital to congratulate the mother on the arrival of her first child. She acknowledged using drugs during the early months of her pregnancy but expressed a genuine desire to change for both herself and her newborn son.

Given the situation, I recognized that the case met the criteria for present danger and that a safety plan was necessary, which involved identifying safety monitors. When I asked about her support system, the mother revealed that her only support was her parents. I asked about the child's father, but she explained that he was under house arrest and, due to his criminal history, he was not a viable option.

After midnight, I arrived at my maternal grandparents' home. They were understandably hesitant to support the plan, as past experiences involving their daughter and her associations with individuals who abused drugs had made them wary for their own safety. Nevertheless, they agreed to give their daughter another chance and permitted her and the baby to move in. Once the mother and child were discharged from the hospital, I returned to the grandparents' home to discuss the safety plan. All parties, including the mother, consented to the arrangement, which included random drug screenings and substance abuse treatment.

Initially, the mother tested negative on three occasions. However, shortly thereafter, I received a call from the child's grandfather, indicating that the mother had vanished with a former boyfriend known for selling drugs, someone who was not the child's father. He insisted that the child be removed from the home. I spent the next two days searching for the mother, driving to known locations, but she was nowhere to be found.

With the mother absent and the situation becoming more precarious, I decided to remove her from the safety plan and asked the maternal grandparents to continue caring for their grandchild. However, they declined, expressing concerns for their own safety, and asked that I retrieve the child immediately. Left with no viable alternatives, I had no choice but to shelter the child.

When I arrived to pick him up, he was neatly dressed and securely fastened in his car seat. A coworker accompanied me, aware of how profoundly I was affected by the fact that this infant's early weeks of life were already tainted by rejection and abandonment. Soon after, the maternal grandmother reached out to a cousin, who traveled several hours to take custody of the child. Following the completion of a drug screening, background checks, and a home study, the child was placed with her. I later learned that she adopted him. The mother left that day and never looked back.

This case highlights a truth I have observed repeatedly: substance abuse not only affects the individual, but it also fractures entire families. It erodes trust, replaces stability with fear, and forces loved ones into impossible dilemmas where they must choose between self-preservation and unconditional love. Even the most caring and compassionate individuals can become unrecognizable when addiction takes hold.

Children, in particular, carry the silent burden of these decisions, experiencing loss, instability, and trauma before they are old enough to comprehend it. Drugs do not discriminate; they dismantle families piece by piece, leaving lasting scars that extend far beyond the person using them.