GETTING TREATMENT DOESN'T MEAN LOSING THEIR KIDS

Her earliest memory is of being handed a glass of whiskey. The adults
laughed about "how cute" she was when she got drunk and sick.

She was 4 years old.

Since then, hardly a day in Stacey Hardin's life has been untouched by drugs
and alcohol and the consequences of addiction.

Until lately, that is.

With a dozen milestone certificates taped to a wall, below a hand- lettered
sign: "Stacey's Accomplishments," and her three children nearby, Hardin, 26,
celebrated six months' sobriety on Tuesday.

She owes that sobriety to Project Home, a cooperative effort of Indiana
University Medical Center and Wishard Health Services, by way of Midtown
Mental Health Center. Since 1996, the program has been the only one in the
state to allow women to enter residential treatment for addictions with
their children, ages birth to 12, in tow. About 100 women have been served
so far, according to clinic manager Nancy Bolding.

The women are referred by staff, community and other sources, including
family. Once in the program, they receive counseling, child care, help to
overcome their addictions and lessons in parenting and life skills.

Participants live in transitional housing at the Phoenix Apartments on the
Eastside, where space to accommodate 10 families is rented for the program.
They can stay up to two years.

Those involved with Project Home say the program addresses a key area of
addiction that is often ignored.

According to the National Institute on Drug Abuse, many women do not seek
services for addictions because traditional inpatient services take only men
or do not allow children.

"Addictions health care is relatively new," said Dean Babcock, a director of
addiction services for Midtown Mental Health Center.

Those who do seek help often encounter what Bolding calls "bad mom
syndrome," a social stigma that causes governments to take away children
before the mothers get help -- often as a requirement for help.

Hardin is no stranger to that stigma. Having been in foster care as a child,
she feared what would happen to her children if she were in treatment.

"I thought they would call CPS (Child Protective Services) and take them
all," Hardin said.

What she found instead was a program that she hopes will lead her to a new
life.

Project Home began 12 years ago as a home-based education program funded by
the Indiana Division of Mental Health. It was formed in response to high
rates of fetal and infant mortality in Indianapolis and Marion County, and
its primary focus was on pregnant women.

Today, those women still receive priority for addiction services and
prenatal education and care.

But other aspects of the program have evolved.

Midtown Mental Health Center assumed oversight in 1994, with the program for
women and their children following in 1996.

New this February is the Recovery Stabilization Program, a residential
dormitorylike program at Midtown's offices at 3333 N. Meridian St. That
program was funded by a three-year, $498,000 federal grant from the Center
for Substance Abuse Treatment. It offers women a three-week period to
"obtain initial abstinence" before moving on to transitional housing.

Success can be a long process. Some clients return for more than one attempt
at sobriety.

"Addiction is an illness that is pervasive in someone's life," Bolding said.
"By the time they come to us, they have pretty much burned all the bridges."

Hardin's first experience with Project Home was in 2001. The experience, all
106 days, was dismal, she said. She was rebellious and combative with fellow
residents and staff.

"I wasn't ready," she said. "I decided to leave. It was on me to do what
needed to be done."

But she reapplied for the program and says things are different this time.

On Tuesday, she celebrated her sobriety with her children, ages 12, 8 and 2,
arriving an hour before the party to string up red and white streamers and
balloons.

Among the celebrants was program "life coach" Vickie Boozer, who called
Hardin "an inspiration."

Looking back on a life that started with alcohol and progressed to crack
cocaine, Hardin said in a strong voice, "That was me, then." She raised her
chin, straightened her back and smiled.

"This is me now."