Elite team of foster families care for drug-addicted babies in Sonoma County

Inside a remodeled two-story house somewhere in Santa Rosa, there’s a room where drug-addicted newborns are loved. The walls are painted green and pink and blue and yellow and then blue again in rows of stripes. The crib is antique, and it matches the changing table - both white. White curtains with lace edging hang over the windows, and a little stuffed lamb rests on pink bed sheets, waiting for its next owner.

Babies are safe here.

They are cared for by Tom and Jan. The husband-and-wife team are part of an elite group of foster parents who care for substance-addicted newborns within the county’s foster care system. Some stay in their home for weeks, others for months.

Of the 68 licensed foster homes in Sonoma County, only nine have the specialized training to look after substance-exposed newborns when they are taken away from their parents by Child Protective Services immediately after birth.

“Foster care has been the greatest gift our family has ever received,” Jan said. “I wouldn’t trade one minute with any of them.”

Their own children, two daughters, have grown up and moved away to start their own lives. Jan and Tom - who agreed to speak if their surnames were withheld, for safety concerns - work to provide the same loving start for children who were born into a different kind of life.

Together, they show up at whatever hospital they’re told to go to, and welcome a newborn into their home for as long as they’re needed. Last year, babies born with drug addictions stayed in homes like Jan and Tom’s for 101 days, on average, according to the county.

Just last week, a 2-month-old girl left their care. She’d been there since December, and, like most of the newborns in Jan and Tom’s house, she was born addicted to drugs.

In the 17 years they’ve been a part of the program, they’ve housed newborns who were exposed in the womb to meth, heroin, cocaine, and benzos, a class of psychoactive drugs. The girl whose lamb now sits in the crib was the 50th child to pass through their doors. And in this cozy room, the babies go through withdrawal.

They are innocents, the victims of their mothers’ urgent, insatiable addictions.

Several times Jan has been tasked with providing tiny doses of phenobarbital to babies with an opioid dependence. The dosage never changes, so as the baby grows, they slowly wean themselves off, she said.

Usually, though, caring for the babies is just a lot of soothing, a lot of calming. Meth babies sleep a lot, so they need to be woken frequently to feed, Jan said. Opioid babies are more fussy, and their increased muscle tone can make them stiff.

When they get the call from the case worker, they’re given a slight preview of what to expect, Jan said. The couple has never said no to a placement.

“You never know what you’re going to get when you bring them home,” she said. “You have to go with it and be flexible, and you have to have a lot of faith in your pediatrician and the community of other foster parents.”

That sense of community - and a well-trained community, at that - is something that Nick Honey, director of Sonoma County’s Family, Youth and Children’s Services, noted, too.

“I’d say the (other) foster parents’ support is key,” he said.

Each of the nine foster families in this specialized unit has been through extensive training to be able to care for the substance-exposed babies they’re tasked with nurturing, he said. They also have access to various support systems, including:

The county’s public health nurse, who provides in-home training and support.

A library of webinars and DVDs on working with substance-exposed newborns.

Hospitals, which provide training before a foster family takes a baby home.

The Early Learning Institute, which provides in-home screenings and support.

Each family in this emergency group is given $1,388 of county funds per month per child, a combination of the basic state rate and a local special care increment, Honey said. The county pays for any special prescriptions or medical equipment that is required.

Last year, 26 drug-?exposed children and their siblings were placed within the specialized foster care unit. In all, 560 children passed through the foster care system in 2015.

For Jan and Tom, it’s important that the babies’ mothers know their children are in good hands. The mother of the last baby who stayed with them understood that.

“The mom said to me, ‘She always smells so good! She always looks so cute! I just know she’s getting the best care.’?” Jan said. “So I really like working with those parents. Not only am I trying to help the baby get through a tough time, I’m trying to help the parents, too.”

On the first visit with the parents, Jan said, they’re typically “scared to death.”

“I always introduce myself, tell them about myself, tell them I’m married, how long I’ve been married,” Jan said. “I tell them I raised two daughters. I just try to alleviate their fears.”

Around the children, Jan and Tom are “Jan” and “Tom.” No cutesy nicknames here. And they call the baby by whatever name the mother prefers. If it’s a James, but the mother wants the baby to be a Jimmy, they say Jimmy. If the mother wants the baby to be a Jim, they say Jim.

Sometimes, they never see the babies again. But sometimes, they stay in Tom and Jan’s lives.

“We have one that we just went to her 16th birthday,” Jan said. “We’ve never missed a birthday party for that little girl.”

There’s another boy who’s almost 4. He lives in Sacramento now, and Tom and Jan see him about every month, she said.

“The nice thing is sometimes we do get to stay in touch,” she said. “We do get to watch these kids grow. … How can you not fall in love with a newborn baby?”

You can reach Staff Writer Christi Warren at 521-5205 or christi.warren@pressdemocrat.com. On Twitter @SeaWarren.