Can a mom be a Cannamom?

Breaking the stigma of medical & recreational marijuana use amongst mothers (and other parents).

Image courtesy of Adobe Stock

Most people in my life would be surprised to know that before I left the hospital with my freshly born first child, I had to go through an interview with a New Jersey DCPP (Department of Child Protection & Permanency) caseworker. You may more colloquially know them as CPS or Child Protective Services. The name varies from state to state, but the program is the same in most places.

I am not a hard drug user, I don’t have an alcohol addiction, and I have no history of physical violence. Why did I need to talk to someone before I could take my baby home? Especially in the middle of a pandemic?

Let me rewind us to December 2019. I was sitting in the local sliding-scale clinic’s OB/GYN room for confirmation of my pregnancy. The doctor asked me some routine questions… “Do you smoke cigarettes?” Yes, unfortunately I did at that time. “Do you use any recreational drugs?” Also, yes. At that point I had been a nearly daily marijuana smoker for about five years, maybe longer. I had been in chronic pain my whole life from undiagnosed arthritis among other deteriorating conditions.

“Don’t do the urine test.” she said. “Try to stop using marijuana before your next appointment with us and we’ll do your urine test then. Just tell them you don’t have to pee.”

I found this sentiment to be very strange. What I found out, however, was that even if you find out you’re pregnant via a urine screening that also screens for THC, it is cause for mandatory report to the state and a case is automatically open from the day your child is born. This is thanks to the Comprehensive Addiction and Recovery Act, also known as CARA.

First, I had to quit smoking cigarettes. That came rather easily for me, for the final time, because I had quit so many times before and I had made a deal with myself that if I ever got pregnant, I’d give up cigarettes for good. However, I wondered about my ability to cease use of marijuana.

I was in pain, had a lot of anxiety, and I was nervous to take clinical anti-depressants or anti-anxiety medication for fear that those would forever screw up my unborn child’s ability to regulate serotonin (as if he wasn’t already doomed, genetically).

Dear reader, it did not go well. I ended up being suicidal, and put myself in a burning hot shower and sat there and cried for what felt like forever. I felt like a failure. I felt like I was going to somehow harm my child from all the stress, not being able to eat, and dealing with a world shutting down from Covid. I talked it over with my partner, and we made the decision that I would continue use and try to quit a month or so before my child was born. I was told as long as the kid tested negative, that we wouldn’t have so many issues.

I looked to the Medial Marijuana industry for help. I got my MMJ card through an online service called Veriheal*, who helped me get a video health appointment and go through all of the legal processes to get a prescription and recommendation for the program.

Once I had my card, I started to try to do more to educate myself about what would happen when my child would be born. I looked online and found next to no resources that could tell me what would ultimately happen. I was fearful of all of the horror stories I read about families experiences with DCPP and other similar agencies. I had waited my entire life to become a mother and this might threaten that very experience.

I shut down. It was too much to handle, mentally, and I went into a permanent freeze state for months. I didn’t talk to anyone, even my parents, and I felt completely consumed by fear and panic from all sides. The village I was told would be there to help with this baby was held back by Covid and my fear of the unknown. We basically weathered my entire pregnancy, and most of covid/my child’s first year in the basement of our house, hiding from everything.

When my water broke the night before I delivered my perfectly healthy child, we went to the hospital, got checked in, I was tested for Covid (negative!) so I could labor without a mask as long as there wasn’t a doctor or nurse in the room. The only medical intervention I was allowed was nitrous oxide. I labored for 12 hours and after 17 minutes of pushing, my child with an 8.5 APGAR score was born into this world.

The only lower points he scored for APGAR were -1 for blueish tinted hands & feet, and -.5 for reaction to stimulation.

My labor began at midnight the day my son was born and I was already exhausted. By the time they allowed the nitrous oxide, I was delirious. I wound up falling asleep with the nitrous oxide mask on my face in the middle of labor. The thing with that nitrous oxide gas is, it is only meant to be inhaled, and then directly exhaled into the mask, once every few minutes/as needed. I believe this led to the detractors for his scoring.

By the next morning, he had developed a ‘newborn rash’. By this point, they had already confirmed the presence of THC in both my and my child’s systems. Due to the CARA act, and Marijuana’s federal classification of 1, social services was notified, and they had a mandate to report this to DCPP. They also initiated NAS (Neonatal Abstinence Syndrome) scoring due to the rash, and the THC.

NAS scoring is only indicated for use/abuse of opiates/narcotics. Marijuana is not classified as that, nor had I used any such thing… but nitrous oxide acts on the opioid system in the body, thus the newborn rash. None of the doctors or nurses knew that I had fallen asleep with the mask on my face because they were limited to checking in on us only ever so often due to Covid.

One of the negatives about giving birth during the height of Covid in 2020: I was not allowed out of the room I labored & delivered in, for the entire stay. If my partner were to leave, he would not be allowed back in. Due to the NAS scoring we had to stay 1 extra day. Due to the extra day, we had to wait yet ONE MORE day, until Monday, to have a face-to-face meeting (again, reminder DURING COVID, BEFORE VACCINES) with a DCPP agent, in our hospital room.

Because we had not been able to attend any birthing classes, and I had essentially shut down from talking to anyone on the outside world, I had no idea what I was doing. I had no idea how to breastfeed, and I was brought a pump. I was told that I needed to pump every 3 hours, but also try to bring my child to the breast as often as I could. I occasionally got him to latch, but he had a lip tie and couldn’t form a decent latch. I had very little sleep and was disoriented. Also, my hip had been partially dislocated during labor thanks to my connective tissue disorder Ehlers Danlos Syndrome.

I could barely figure out how and when to pump. At one point, a day shift nurse came in to instruct me and with a very condescending tone told me if I wanted this to work I needed to at least TRY. I was obliterated… I had been trying a LOT. I caved and asked for formula, which we ended up needing to supplement with for most of my child’s first 6 months. I blame the stress and chaos of being judged and treated like a heroin addict for my milk supply never fully establishing. [side note, we continued to breastfeed for nearly 3 years, so we had a fulfilling journey none-the-less]

After a stir crazy four days, we finally were released, nothing was discovered on the NAS scoring, and my child passed every single screening he had while there with flying colors.

Upon returning home, we immediately had to call our DCPP agent and give them a video tour of our home. The things they were looking for were: hot water, running water, a place for the child to sleep that is their own, food in the cabinets, and electricity. I had to show them my entire MMJ stash, that it was stored in a safe, and on a separate floor from my

We also had to have a conference call with my mother-in-law about the ‘plan of care’ for my child if I were to become ‘too high to function’ while still using MMJ. Mortifying, to say the least.

I then had to report for a drug test within 30 days, to ensure that there was indeed THC in my system still, to then PROVE my use. I had to provide receipts for the product I purchased from my dispensary. My DCPP agent had to call the dispensary to ensure that I was using the prescribed allotment (1.5 oz). They had to establish that I was getting my MMJ from legitimate sources.

Try as they might, they had no legal recourse, and thus the case was eventually closed.

I worried for a long time about the stigma of using marijuana while pregnant and breastfeeding. It has been nearly three years since we encountered this issue, and I am only writing about it now because I have finally processed through the trauma enough to get it all out there.

The other reason I mention this now, is that I am getting ready to go through this battle again for a second time. I’m nearly 12 weeks pregnant with my second child, and I intend to give birth in Delaware if I am unable to get a lawyer able to help us keep a second DCPP case off of our record. I have been stricken by morning sickness so strong it was diagnosed as hyperemesis gravidarum, or essentially severe morning sickness. Its unrelenting and I have barely been able to eat since about week 7. I spent a night in the emergency department because I had been unable to keep even water down for more than 24 hours.

Just before walking in, knowing it would be a long process, I took a small dose of infused THC oil that I had been gifted. I don’t take it often because of the strength, but I hoped it would stave the nausea long enough to get me into a bed and out of the waiting room. It helped, and I was able to keep down some herbal mint tea I helped myself to in the waiting area, and it kept me from throwing up until I was given half a bag of saline and two different anti-nausea pharmaceuticals.

I hope other women/gestational carriers and families going through this issue can use my personal experience to help guide them through the discriminatory system in place in the state of New Jersey. The forms I had to sign, or declined to sign at my new OB’s office seemed intimidating and frustrating to me, and my refusal to sign only triggers the same investigation.

I understand that the CARA act was put in place to help those specifically with narcotics and opiate abuse issues, but what I do not understand is why if marijuana is now recreationally legal, why it is reported and treated just the same as if I were using heroin, pills, or cocaine. I do not know what statistics may exist about women and parents fearing repercussions and avoiding healthcare in dire circumstances, but this feels more like a way to intimidate us than to help us.

*I have included my referral link in case this resource is of use for you! Just letting you know ahead of time that I’ll do this when I have personally used a product or service and recommend it. I don’t financially gain from it other than getting a $10 credit off my next renewal.