Becoming Who I Despised

Pregnant? What? There's no way I can be pregnant! I'm a fucking heroin junkie! No! Just no! What am I going to do?! I made an appointment with my OB right away. Luckily, she got me in very quickly since I had already had two miscarriages in the last 7-8 months. I was so worried because they give you a drug screen at your first appointment.

I forget what day my appointment with the doctor was but it was very soon after I first called. I went in and the doctor did all the stuff they do and check for at your first prenatal appointment. After we were finished, I went into her office with her. I told her that I needed to speak with her about something. I told her straight out what I had been doing. She told me that methadone was the best thing they can do for a pregnant heroin addict. She told me about a clinic in the city that deals with pregnant women addicted to opiates (I had known about it from my friend Sam. I saw her about two weeks before I started using and she told me that's where she goes - after she finally admitted to me that she had in fact, been using heroin like I had suspected a year before). But I didn't want to get on methadone. To me, all methadone was for was to keep you high legally, just a switch from one drug to another. No way. And having to go to the clinic every single day? Yeah, okay.

I didn't know what to do. Maybe I could get off the heroin on my own; after all, I got myself off oxies three different times and it was so easy each time. I could get off heroin, too. Every day was going to be my last day. Tomorrow I won't get high. Things went like that for a couple of weeks before I decided to go to the clinic.

In order for me to become a patient at this clinic, I was going to have to go to the hospital to be admitted for a few days. I spoke with my manager at work and told her the situation and that I was going to need to take that upcoming weekend off work (I think it was the 2nd weekend of April). I was going to the hospital that Friday. In Thursday, I decided to go to Wal-Mart to get a few things. I had to make a diaper cake for a christening for my mom and I needed ribbon that had crosses or something religious. Of course, before I went, I took a trip to the spot and got a few bags.

I probably did a bag on my way to Wal-Mart, and after I got there, I did one in the bathroom. I had one bag left. I spent like an hour walking around in Wal-Mart, sticking random things into my purse. I bought a few things as well. I had a bad feeling and should've went with my gut (I had thought about going into the bathroom and taking everything out of my bag and leaving it, and doing the last bag but I didn't). As I was walking out of the store, a guy came up to me and asked if I had any makeup in my bag. I thought about running out for a second, but then decided to just go with him into their office.

While I was in there, they asked what I had taken. I began to empty things from my purse and hoodie pocket (thinking about it now, it was the same hoodie I am wearing now as I type this). They thought I had only taken some makeup and were surprised to see everything else I had - sunglasses, underwear for my daughter, the ribbon, and who knows what else. I had about $70 worth of stuff. I had been stealing from Wal-Mart for years - karma caught up with me. Since I had gone into the office willingly and complied with them, they weren't going to have me arrested. That is, until the cop that was in there decided to search my purse.

When she started looking in, she found an empty bag. Great. She was going to find the rest. A few seconds later, she found my needles and the last bag. She arrested me.

Luckily, I was released the next day on ROR. But what was I going to do now? I was arrested around 2 in the afternoon and didn't get released until around 5 the next morning. Luckily, I didn't start to get sick until after I was released and Jim was coming to pick me up. The time in jail went pretty quick. I slept a lot. Another girl was put in the cell with me so she and I got through the night together. She even talked the cops that transferred us from the 1st District to the roundhouse into letting us have a cigarette on the way. I felt really bad for her because she was only charged with simple assault and it was the first time she was ever arrested - she wad given bail. Anyway, after Jim picked me up, we went straight to the spot to cop.

Finally, I think in the beginning of May, Jim found a Suboxone doctor that was willing to see the both of us. He made the appointment and we went. Of course, I brought along a shot for each of us when Jim picked me up after he was done work. We were at the doctors for a couple of hours. Jim was given a prescription for Suboxone, and I was given Subutex, because Suboxone isn't safe for pregnancy. We were about to stop getting high...tomorrow, of course.

I couldn't stand the taste of the Subutex. I wasn't able to dissolve even a quarter of a pill without getting sick from the nasty, horrible taste. It didn't last long for either of us. We both wound up selling our scripts. We also found a dealer that would come to us or meet us somewhere so we didn't have to keep going to the badlands. That wad great!!

This just continued. We couldn't stop. I cried pretty much everyday. We fought just about everyday. Our relationship was based on drugs. I fucking HATED heroin addicts before this! I especially hated how a pregnant woman could be so selfish and continue to get high. Why won't she stop? What the fuck kind of mother wound continue to stick a needle full of heroin into herself when she was carrying an innocent baby? Well, until it happened to me, I didn't know how hard it would be to stop. I was a pregnant heroin addict. I became a person I hated.