HER REWARD IS SEEING BABIES GET A SECOND CHANCE

Last month, Barb Drennen got a reminder of an unforgettable moment 17
years ago.

In 1990, Drennen of Kent and a friend, Barb Richards, both active in
foster care work and concerned about the growing number of newborns
they saw born to mothers using drugs, launched an ambitious endeavor.
They founded the Pediatric Interim Care Center, a facility designed
to provide specialized, short-term care to infants whose mothers'
prenatal use of drugs left the babies at risk of life-threatening
complications.

Drennen recalls one of the center's first patients, and a moment when
she saw her own staff's love potentially tested and fully revealed.

"The baby was teensy, maybe four pounds," Drennen, 65, says. "She
wouldn't eat. She whimpered all the time. I'd taken her to Children's
Hospital for an evaluation."

Doctors told Drennen the baby might be HIV positive. She and Richards
hadn't prepared their staff for the possibility they might have to
care for an HIV-positive infant, but as it turns out, "when I brought
that baby back, they were just wonderful," Drennen says. "They
totally took her under wing."

The test came back negative and, later, a nurse at the center adopted
the baby and moved with her to Louisiana. The nurse called Drennen
last month to report the baby, now 17, is "healthy, beautiful -- and
doing well. They hope to visit next year," Drennen says.

It's the kind of outcome that heartens Drennen, now in her 17th year
at the center. (Richards retired in 1996.) She has seen the hold
drugs can have on a parent, and does not play God. All she does is
hope the center provides a second chance for a baby born into
difficult circumstances.

Some things have changed since the organization's early years. Two
years ago, it moved from its first home in downtown Kent to a new,
larger facility just a block and a half away. The center has long
enjoyed strong community support -- both monetary and hands-on. And
that hands-on involvement was never more evident than on the day of
the move.

Firefighters lined up to carry the infants from their old home to
their new one. It was a popular event.

"Thirty firefighters carrying 15 babies," Drennen says, laughing.
Those infants, tightly swaddled and carried as if they were crystal,
were too young to understand the significance of that day.

More than 2,200 newborns have passed through since Drennen and
Richards founded the facility. Though it's licensed for 27 beds, on
average it is home to 15 to 17 drug-exposed newborns at any given
time. They all come through the Department of Social and Health Services.

"The tragedy," Drennen says, "is that a number of babies born
drug-exposed are overlooked" because their mothers aren't tested and
the babies go unidentified.

"It happens a lot," she says.

In the early days, most of the newborns -- frequently born
underweight -- were affected by "stand-alone" drugs, one drug rather
than an assortment, Drennen says. Heroin, crack cocaine and methadone
were common.

"These days, many have three, four, even five different drugs in
their system," she says.

Another change, Drennen says, is that they are born affected by legal
drugs, such as methadone, Vicodin or OxyContin. Because they're legal
drugs, the state can't do anything, she says.

"It's frustrating."

But then, Drennen's tackled frustrating issues for years -- and she
does not give up easily. Her efforts haven't gone
unrecognized.

Two weeks ago, she was named one of three recipients of the 2007
Mannington Stand On A Better World awards.

The program, established by Mannington Mills, recognizes women who
are enriching the lives of others and having a significant impact in
their communities or the world at large.

The program honors winners in three categories: local, national and
global. Drennen is the local award winner and will attend an awards
ceremony Nov. 15 in Wilmington, Del.

Drennen, who has spent nearly two decades watching hope replace
heartache, is thrilled.

"This is," she says of the award, "for the babies."