On Wednesday, I toured the Pediatric Interim Care Center in Kent. There was no media, no speeches — just a bipartisan group walking through a place that has dedicated 35 years to quietly saving lives.
It may have been a final visit. Unless something changes by Monday, PICC will close its doors for good. Not because it failed. Not because the need disappeared. But because our state government chose to let it die — through ideology, indifference and a single veto.
PICC specializes in caring for newborns suffering from drug withdrawal. These are infants born into agony — their bodies trembling, their cries raw and guttural. PICC gently nurses them through the most painful days of their lives. The average stay is 30 to 40 days. The outcomes are remarkable.
For decades, PICC received about $700,000 per year in state support — a fraction of the state’s $70 billion-plus budget. The rest came from private donors, community support and nonprofit partners. This year, Democratic budget writers stripped that funding. Republicans pushed to restore it. After bipartisan negotiation, $100,000 was included in the final budget — just enough to buy one more year and create a long-term plan.
Gov. Bob Ferguson vetoed it.
Even after the veto, PICC might have survived. But the Department of Children, Youth, and Families terminated PICC’s contract — the agreement that allows hospitals and state services to place infants there. Without it, PICC can’t take babies, regardless of how many beds are open or how urgent the need.
This decision came without warning. No complaint, no violation, no consultation. Despite invitation, the governor never visited. Then he vetoed their last chance — and said nothing while DCYF severed the lifeline.
Behind the scenes, state officials offer weak justifications. DCYF suggests the care center is “outdated” or inconsistent with “best practices.” But that claim falls apart under scrutiny.
PICC uses modern, evidence-based care models — including “Eat, Sleep, Console.” It avoids overmedication. In 35 years, Narcan has been needed only once. It offers extended visitation, hotel vouchers for families and structured support. The facility even tried overnight stays until those led to dangerous incidents, including on-site drug use and an attempted infant abduction by a parent under the influence.
PICC’s policies aren’t to punish parents. They’re to protect babies.
But DCYF has changed. Since its formation in 2017, and especially after the 2021 Keeping Families Together Act, the department has embraced a rigid ideology that prioritizes reunification at almost any cost, even when parents are actively using meth or fentanyl. This ideology has fueled a tripling of child deaths and near deaths in the first quarter of 2025 compared to the same period last year — over half due to fentanyl.
If PICC closes, these infants will be sent to overstimulating hospitals at 10 times the cost — or worse, placed back in homes where substances are used.
PICC wasn’t built by bureaucrats. It was built by people who care. Founder Barb Drennen dedicated her life to it. Over the years, she was joined by a bipartisan coalition of supporters: pediatricians, police chiefs, local officials. Former Lt. Gov. Brad Owen and others. Every rocking chair, every crib, every detail of that facility is a testament to purpose, compassion and community.
This isn’t a call for money. PICC is ready to operate for another year — without any new state funding — if their contract is restored.
The only thing required is leadership. Specifically, Gov. Ferguson and DCYF Secretary Tana Senn must reinstate the PICC’s contract. That alone would give us time to regroup, to find solutions, to do right by the scores of babies still being born into addiction in this state.
If PICC closes on Monday, let the record show it was not for lack of care. Not for lack of need. Not for lack of donors. And certainly not for lack of love.
It was because of one man’s veto. One agency’s silence. And a failure of conscience at the highest levels of state government.
The Pediatric Interim Care Center deserves better. Barb Drennen deserves better.
And above all, the babies do. We still have time to save this miracle.
