PROGRAM TARGETS ADDICTED MOMS

Little 3-week-old Taliah was born with 10 fingers and 10 toes -- and
no drugs in her system.

It's the first time in three pregnancies that Niki Kidrick didn't
give birth to a drugged baby. And she said it wouldn't have been
possible without a new program for Cowlitz County mothers battling addictions.

"She's the only one who tested clean (at birth)," Kidrick said
recently. "And without this program she wouldn't have."

Kidrick used meth and drank alcohol while pregnant -- just as she
did with her previous two children. Then, in November, she lost
custody of her 2-year-old daughter because she'd relapsed after
being clean for 18 months. Her 5-year-old son lives with her mother.

Child Protective Services has opened a file on Taliah as well, but
for now she remains with Kidrick in a Longview drug treatment center.

The Parent-Child Assistance Program not only helped Kidrick take
stock of her life, she said, it helped her find an in-patient drug
treatment center much quicker than she could have on her own. That
gave Kidrick a head start on recovery, and meant she wasn't using
when Taliah was born earlier this month.

And, she believes, it will mean the difference in finally beating
her addictions.

The Parent-Child Assistance Program -- called PCAP -- started in
Seattle in 1991, but didn't come to Cowlitz County until this
October. It is run through the local Drug Abuse Prevention Center
and paid for with a $350,000 state Division of Alcohol and Substance
Abuse grant.

The program began as research a project at the University of
Washington and its goal is to reduce the number of children born to
addicted mothers, improving both generations' lives in the process.

"We've got to stop this cycle of generation after generation of
mothers giving birth to babies with drugs in their system," said Gus
Nolte executive director of the DAPC.

According to UW, a survey of former clients found that 88 percent
had completed drug or alcohol treatment and 47 percent had not used
drugs or alcohol for more than six months after leaving the
three-year program. Also, 51 percent were using reliable birth control.

PCAP doesn't provide any drug treatment, but supports clients in
many ways. Advocates help clients set goals, fill out paperwork and
get to doctor appointments on time. They give them rides and, in
Kidrick's case, advocate Katie Huntington was even in the delivery
room when Taliah was born.

In a way, the advocates are really paid best friends -- but best
friends who don't give up on the clients and don't condone clients
lying to themselves or the advocates. Once a client is accepted, she
stays in PCAP for three years, meaning the support lasts even after
drug treatment is completed.

"I've been in the treatment field for many years, and see this as
being a link that's been missing," said Jan Caliman, the local PCAP director.

The program encourages drug treatment, but also doesn't kick
participants out if they have a momentary lapse. It also doesn't
mandate a particular treatment program, just that clients work at
putting their life in order.

The center's five advocates come from a variety of backgrounds and
all have been trained by PCAP officials in other state sites --
Seattle, Tacoma, Yakima, Spokane and Grant County. Huntington has an
early childhood development degree and jumped at the chance after
working in a day care where one mother repeatedly got clean and then
relapsed, going in and out of treatment centers on a regular basis.

"She had such a genuine love for her son and was trying to do the
right thing," Huntington said. "And if there had been a program like
this, I don't think she would have had to go back."

Huntington had to search for Kidrick last month when she moved
without telling anyone -- hoping to get her new apartment in order
in a bid to keep Child Protective Services from taking her older daughter.

Huntington and the other four advocates don't give up easy. When a
client goes missing, they call relatives, they knock on doors and
the scour the streets, sometimes taking co-workers along to ensure
everyone's safety.

And, when Huntington finally found Kidrick, she spent hours helping
her set goals and developing a plan.

"She cancelled all her appointments that week to help me," Kidrick said.

When Kidrick needed one more night before entering an in-patient
treatment center, Huntington convinced her to leave her extra
clothes in Huntington's car -- to ensure she'd show up the next day
for her admission appointment.

And after that, Kidrick said she has no choice but to finally get
her life together.

She wants to go to school to become a certified translator -- she
already speaks Spanish -- and wants to find an apartment in a safe,
crime-free neighborhood to keep her away from bad influences and
temptations. And she never wants to see anyone taking her children
away from her again.

"I have to be willing to do it," she said of changing her life. "But
with Katie on my ass for three years it's a lot more chance than
doing it on my own."