Six months pregnant with nowhere to go – an unhoused woman's plight on RI's streets

PROVIDENCE – It’s 10:10 on a bitterly cold Tuesday morning and Shanelle Saraceno is already worrying about the night ahead.

“I have no clue where we’re going tonight,” Saraceno said minutes after stepping off a bus at Kennedy Plaza with her boyfriend, Dylan Ballou. All their possessions fit into three Stop & Shop grocery bags.

Saraceno, 29, is six months pregnant and desperate. She and Ballou had been sleeping in a tent near the Apex building in Pawtucket – that is, until someone stole their tent and blankets two weeks ago. They try to keep each other warm, but it doesn't always work.

“We’re literally sleeping on cement,” she said.

Shanelle Saraceno and her boyfriend, Dylan Ballou, leave Burnside Park with all their possessions stuffed in grocery bags.
Shanelle Saraceno and her boyfriend, Dylan Ballou, leave Burnside Park with all their possessions stuffed in grocery bags.

First winter outside

This has been Saraceno’s plight since she was evicted for nonpayment last March. Every night since, she hasn't known where she will sleep.

“I’m pregnant. I don’t think I can do another night like this. I’ll jump in the Pawtucket River,” Saraceno said the next day, having spending yet another night frigid on the street.

She has not been able to find an apartment they can afford on $1,833 in monthly Social Security income they receive based on their disabilities. And now she has an eviction on her record due to her misunderstanding a court stipulation, she says.

“There’s nothing out there. They want first and last months' rent, a W-9, a lease,” she says.

This is Saraceno’s first winter outside, and she’s had enough.

Six months' pregnant, Shanelle Saraceno sits among all of her and her boyfriend's possessions in grocery bags on a bench in Providence's Burnside Park.
Six months' pregnant, Shanelle Saraceno sits among all of her and her boyfriend's possessions in grocery bags on a bench in Providence's Burnside Park.

'Nowhere near enough shelter beds'

Saraceno and Ballou are stark evidence of the housing crisis gripping the state as rents have climbed precipitously over the last several years, putting apartments out of the reach of many low- and middle-income Rhode Islanders.

The number of people lacking shelter in the state rose from 377 in November to 436 in December, according to the monthly report of the Coalition to End Homelessness. The waiting list for shelter has 720 people on it, amounting to 472 households.

They are evidence, too, of an emergency shelter system that can leave people languishing for months on the coordinated entry system list. Saraceno says she has been on the list for nearly five months, and that she called the organizers so often she felt like she was harassing them. They directed her to check in once a month.

More: A Woonsocket man was declared incompetent. It took advocates months to get him out of the hospital.

“I have a baby on the way. I’ve reached out to everyone,” Saraceno said. “I’m worried. I’m stressed. I’m frustrated.”

She ticks off the organizations she says she's reached out to, and it’s impressive: Amos House, BH link, Better Lives, the Catholic Church, Emmanuel House, CES, Blackstone Valley Advocacy, OpenDoors, Crossroads Rhode Island, housing hotline Newport, Lucy’s Hearth in Middletown, House of Hope, Gov. Dan McKee’s office – the list goes on.

Nick Horton, co-executive director of OpenDoors, has been trying to help Saraceno for the last week after hearing about her situation from an outreach worker at the House of Hope. She is on a waitlist for that agency's 14-bed transitional housing program, but the list is months long and has no open beds.

"It is clear she needs help now," Horton said in an email. "Our agency has checked and double-checked the state-wide coordinated entry system for shelter beds to try to help her, and the truth is this: our homelessness crisis is so large that our system cannot even help a six-months' pregnant woman sleeping on the streets for four months in the middle of winter."

OpenDoors Co-Executive Director Nick Horton stands in the living room of his group's new shelter on Elmwood Avenue in December.
OpenDoors Co-Executive Director Nick Horton stands in the living room of his group's new shelter on Elmwood Avenue in December.

He said he looked into trying to make a special exception to get Saraceno a bed at the OpenDoors Motel 6 shelter, and was told that, not only is it full, but there are actually three pregnant woman sleeping right now at the agency's warming center, which is not a place any pregnant woman should have to stay.

While the state has made a lot of progress adding new shelter beds over the past year, it is nowhere near enough, according to Horton.

"Most people in this state have no idea how bad the homelessness crisis is because we have cleared most encampments, but there are hundreds of people out of sight living deep in the woods, in their cars, or in other unsafe locations. Shanelle's experience is awful, but sadly it is not unique," Horton said.

'We’ve been here, there, everywhere'

The bleakness of their situation is taking a toll on the couple’s mental health, as is evident in Saraceno's increasing desperation. It was so bad for Ballou weeks earlier that he was admitted to Butler Hospital, she says.

Saraceno, who has diabetes, wonders if she would be better off in jail, where she’d have regular meals, a bed and heat.

“We’ve been here, there, everywhere,” she said.

Occasionally, a family member will take them in for a night or pay for a hotel stay. Rumford Motor Inn is the most affordable at $96 to $103 a night, she said. Ballou’s mother sometimes makes or orders them food.

“But she has bills too,” Saraceno said.

Saraceno doesn’t want to be around people using illicit drugs due to her exposure as a child and because of the baby on the way. Ballou is trying to remain substance free, limiting some of the emergency-shelter options at which they are willing to stay.

“I’m just trying to stay as clean as I can,” Ballou, 23, says. He says can’t find a job because he has a felony record and has been without consistent shelter since age 18.

'Sometimes you want somewhere warm to go'

Their days are spent finding places to keep warm, such as libraries, and Project Weber/RENEW in Pawtucket, where they can heat up food.

“Sometimes you want somewhere warm to go,” she says.

They take “bird baths” in public restrooms to remain clean. Saraceno goes to the doctor to get prenatal care and sees a therapist.

“I don’t trust the doctors. I don’t tell them what we’re going through,” she says. She’s afraid they will contact the state.

Saraceno says she isn’t looking for much, just a safe, reliable, warm place to stay.

“The only thing I could say is I want a roof over my head for my baby,” she said.

This article originally appeared on The Providence Journal: RI's homeless crisis is so bad, there's nowhere for an unhoused pregnant woman to go