Heather Jackson had a calendar by her bunk. Every night she’d cross off a day.

Tuesdays meant she got to see her kids. Saturdays meant she got to see her boyfriend. Every cross also meant that she was one day closer to release.

Jackson, 31, recently spent 59 days of a 90-day sentence in the Oxford County Jail on drug charges. In June, a mutual friend sold cocaine out of her house to an undercover agent. Both were arrested, and she was charged with Class C furnishing.

She was released Sept. 11. The biggest challenge she faces now is staying off drugs and alcohol.

Stories like Jackson’s have increased as the female population in jails and prisons across the country has skyrocketed in recent decades.

Women in prison face different issues and present different problems. Often the primary caregivers, these inmates worry about the fate of their children. They face special challenges when released, such as finding housing and regaining custody of children.

Jackson spoke twice about her experience. On Aug. 22 she sat at a table in the jail’s small library, surrounded by floor-to-ceiling bookcases. She was dressed in the traditional orange inmates wear, but spoke confidently.

Sept. 14 she relaxed in a camper where she lives with her boyfriend, Adam Conley. The camper is outside Conley’s parents’ home off a small dirt road in Carthage. She wore a T-shirt and capris, spoke with a smile and once pulled out her keys, to which pictures of her daughters are attached.

A widespread problem

In 1977, only 14 women were serving time in Maine’s state prison. Today, there are 130, an increase of about 12 percent each year. Nationally the female prison population has increased from 11,212 in 1977 to 96,125 in 2004, a better than eightfold increase.

The biggest contributor to that growth, which far outstrips the general population growth, are stiffer drug sentencing laws and longer sentences for drug-related offenses, said Ryan King, a policy analyst with the Sentencing Project, a D.C.-based nonprofit research and advocacy group.

Jackson’s scenario is a fairly common one for incarcerated women, he said. Two-thirds of all women in state prisons are parents of minor children; many have substance abuse problems.

“It is illustrative of a lot of the problems with drug sentencing,” King said.

A few years ago, Maine built a new 70-bed wing for women at the state prison in Windham. The idea was that women would get targeted treatment and programs, given that their response to treatment and pathways to crime differ from men, said Denise Lord, assistant commissioner for the Department of Corrections. However, with 130 women currently behind bars, that squeezes 60 sleeping in multi-purpose units waiting for beds.

“It’s no substitute,” Lord said.

County crowding too

Seeing women in jail used to be a rarity, said Capt. Ernest Martin, administrator of the Oxford County Jail.

“In the last ten years, it’s been a rare day that we don’t have one,” Martin said. “Now we have at least two or three.”

The Oxford County Jail, designed to hold 44 inmates, has two cells intended for women. Each cell – connected by a common day area – was built to sleep one, but can hold two. When needed, up to two others are placed on mattresses on the floor in the day area.

If the jail gets more women than it can hold some of them are boarded out to a neighboring county jail, or are held in the jail’s in-house postal office, the “no-contact” room or the multi-purpose room.

The Androscoggin County Jail, which holds more than 150 inmates, has also seen steady increases in the female population. In 1985, the jail’s average female population was four. In 1995 it was 10; in 2005, it was 11.

“Our society is becoming more and more gender-neutral,” said Capt. John Lebel, Androscoggin County’s jail administrator. “There are changed roles. It’s a disturbing trend.”

The Franklin County Detention Center has also seen an increase in women, but there’s no space problem right now. In fact, it boards inmates for the Somerset County Jail, said jail administrator Sandra Collins, because Somerset doesn’t house female prisoners.

The average number of women housed in Franklin County in 2002 was two; in 2003, six; in 2004, four; and, in 2005, three. The jail, which holds 29 total, has a three-bed unit for women.

Families dragged apart

Jackson’s two children, Kearra, 6, and Lacresha, 9, are living with a cousin in Poland. In October, Jackson goes to court to determine whether she can take them back; she says she won’t assume custody until she feels she’s ready to take good care of them.

“I need to get myself better,” Jackson said. “I don’t feel I’m healthy.”

Since they started living in Poland, Jackson said the girls are living in a healthier environment. Lacresha even got straight A’s last term.

Three-fourths of incarcerated women are mothers, so child welfare is an issue.

Incarcerated women face pressure from the Adoption and Safe Families Act, which creates a timetable for parental rights. Mothers will lose custody of their children if they don’t maintain significant contact with them in 15 months, according to Sarah From, with the national Women’s Prison Association. The association’s mission is to add gender as an issue to criminal justice system reforms, raise concerns and ultimately find alternatives to incarceration.

Right now the state has custody of Jackson’s children, and her cousin has guardianship. She hopes her cousin will be granted full custody, with state assistance.

Jackson is looking for a job so she can have an income, and eventually support her family again. Once she completes her GED she wants to enroll in college courses and get a degree in business. He boyfriend is a carpenter, so she would like to start a business with him.

Not ‘men in skirts’

Frequently being the primary caregivers for their children is just one thing that sets female inmates apart from men. Women are also psychologically different, as is their pathway to crime, From said. Many women have high rates of trauma and abuse in their past. They have higher rates of substance abuse and mental health issues.

They come into the prison system with multiple needs, such as treatment programs, peer support and help to become better parents, so “they can figure out how to make it on their own,” From said.

Mothers want to see their kids, which becomes a concern when women have to be boarded out to neighboring counties, because kids can’t travel as far.

Sometimes women come in pregnant. Jails then take responsibility for medical care and, if a woman goes into labor, an officer accompanies her to the hospital.

Lebel, at the Androscoggin jail, said that in July his facility had to deal with a woman whose water broke, sending her into labor.

The woman was in for a minor charge, so Lebel called the court and the woman was released.

In August, the Oxford County Jail had an inmate who was in her seventh month of pregnancy.

“She wasn’t taking care of herself,” said Martin. “She probably got better care in jail.”

Lebel said that, given the heightening population, a long-term solution needs to be found.

One thing that would help, some officials said, would be more female corrections officers.

“A lot of corrections officers think that women are just men in skirts,” From said. “They can’t be dealt with like that.”

But Lebel said it’s hard finding female corrections officers. Many women don’t want to put themselves in a situation where “men are exposing themselves all the time.”

He said the state should consider an all-female institution that holds inmates from more than one county.

A crowded room

Jackson considered herself lucky to share a cell with a “wonderful person,” since, in jail, there is no privacy. Jackson’s roommate declined to be interviewed.

It was tough to share such a small space with so many, Jackson said, though the other women in the cellblock helped Jackson make it through the experience. Some of her stories about them could have come from a college dorm.

“I remember the last night, we all laughed so hard,” Jackson said.

However, there were some women who came through that Jackson said she had conflicts with.

Administration in the Androscoggin and Franklin jails said females are the most problematic simply because they cannot get along with each other.

This is different from the past.

“Twenty years ago they had the cleanest blocks and were the most easily manageable folks,” Lebel said.

While Jackson said she had a good rapport with the jail administrators and other inmates, the living conditions were still poor. Every morning she would wake coughing up dust. There were only about three guards on each shift to manage about 50 inmates, which meant her needs weren’t always met. Sometimes her block would have to wait hours for necessities such as tampons, sanitary napkins or toilet paper.

Martin said guards are supposed to do rounds every 30 minutes, and bring the inmates those kinds of items.

Her biggest upset was being denied her anxiety disorder medications. Many people in the jail have similar problems, Jackson said. She said she also was denied her Vicodin prescription – pain relief for two ruptured disks in her neck. She said officials wouldn’t let her take it because of her cocaine addiction history. Instead she was offered over-the-counter painkillers.

“You can’t manage everyone’s pain with Tylenol,” Jackson said.

Doors slammed shut

Jackson said she was fortunate to have people to support her when she was released. Some women face many hardships and roadblocks once out of jail.

The first two issues are housing and money.

There are a lot of barriers in getting into a housing shelter, and finding a job is tough.

“Even after someone served a sentence, door after door is closed to them,” From said.

The Galilee House in Norway is a homeless shelter for women and children. Because of increased demand, only single women with children are permitted to stay there, said director Maria Whitney.

While many programs exist for released men, there are not as many for women.

“When these women come out, depending on the crime, they cannot get benefits such as Section 8 housing and food stamps,” Whitney said.

And, if a woman was convicted of domestic abuse, “Forget about getting into a shelter,” she added.

Upon release women have obligations that can conflict with their efforts to work and reconnect with their children. They have to communicate with a parole officer, deal with health issues, take drug tests and maintain a curfew.

“If they have to attend an all-day drug session, they can’t work and take care of their kids,” From said.

First week home

On her first day out, Jackson set up medical appointments.

Then she painted her fingernails and toenails, and did her hair.

It’s hard for her to see her children now, since they live so far away, and neither she nor her boyfriend drive. She talks to them on the phone, and she hopes to go to Poland, spend a night with her grandmother and have some time with the girls.

Her boyfriend’s family has been extremely supportive. “They’ve been there for me more than my own family,” Jackson said.

Jackson said she’s been with her boyfriend three years and has a good relationship.

She will be on probation for two years; she has to attend substance abuse counseling and not use drugs or alcohol.

She’s avoiding substances so she won’t have to go back to jail. She said she has been tempted but was able to resist. She wants to stay healthy.

“I’ve proved to myself that I can be a better person,” Jackson said.

Jail has forced her to get to know herself better.

“I’ve always been told all my life that I’m nothing but a letdown…,” Jackson said. “I don’t need to prove myself to anybody but me.”

Staff writers Scott Thistle and Donna Perry contributed to this report.