Dr. Becky Uranga, an OB-GYN in the Boise area of Idaho, holds one of many babies she has delivered over her 14 years of practice. As OB-GYNs and specialists have left Idaho after the implementation of a near-total abortion ban, Uranga said she is shouldering more work and feeling unable to give as much of her attention to some patients as she used to. (Courtesy of Dr. Becky Uranga)

Before Dr. Harmony Schroeder left her OB-GYN practice in Idaho last year for Washington, she’d had many conversations with legislators and others about how to feel safe practicing in a state with a near-total abortion ban that includes criminal and civil liabilities for violating the law.

Schroeder wanted to stay. She’d practiced in Idaho for nearly 30 years, with a patient list of about 3,000 and a group of doctors she loved. She thought once elected officials understood that a ban would mean poorer medical care and more negative outcomes, things would improve.

Instead, they got even worse, as women were airlifted out of state during a period without protection for emergency abortion care under federal law.

Schroeder felt like she was either compromising care for women or compromising herself by risking jail time.

Providers convicted of breaking the law face up to five years in prison, revocation of their medical license and at least $20,000 in civil penalties.

“People said, ‘Oh, we would never really put you in jail,’” she said. “Sometimes it felt like the legislature was giving us a pinky swear.”

Schroeder is one of 114 OB-GYNs who left Idaho or stopped practicing obstetrics between August 2022 and December 2024, according to data from a peer-reviewed study published in JAMA Open Network, a division of the Journal of the American Medical Association. That number represents 43% of the 268 physicians practicing obstetrics statewide, a higher figure than previous reports indicated.

The study showed 20 new OB-GYNs moved to Idaho during that same period, for a net loss of 94 physicians.

It’s not the only state with a ban experiencing shifts in numbers of obstetrics providers, but it is one of the most acute. Physicians in Texas, Tennessee, Oklahoma and other ban states have spoken to the media and researchers to say they are leaving the state or retiring from the practice because of bans, and while the numbers may not always be statistically significant, the departures are often in states that already have maternal health care shortages. 

The states with the highest percentage of maternity care deserts as of 2024 were North Dakota, South Dakota, Oklahoma, Missouri, Nebraska and Arkansas, according to March of Dimes. With the exceptions of North Dakota and Nebraska, every state in that list has a near-total abortion ban in place.

Out of the 55 OB-GYN physicians Idaho lost just in 2024, 23 moved out of the state, 12 retired, and 16 either shifted their practice to gynecology only or moved from a rural to urban practice site. The remaining moved elsewhere in state. All of those who moved away moved to a state that did not have abortion restrictions similar to Idaho’s.

As of 2018, four years before the U.S. Supreme Court’s Dobbs v. Jackson Women’s Health Organization decision that ended federally protected access to abortion, Idaho needed 20 more OB-GYNs to meet demand, according to a report from the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services.

Schroeder likes her new practice in Washington, but she is still sad about the realities that forced her to leave.

“I wish it didn’t have to be this way,” she said. 

Study proves ‘what we feared was happening’

Susie Keller, CEO of the Idaho Medical Association, said the losses feel worse because Idaho already consistently ranked at the bottom of nationwide rankings for physician-to-patient ratios even while the population has exploded in recent years.

The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention ranked Idaho lowest in 2019 for overall patient-to-doctor ratios, and the conservative Cicero Institute ranked it 50th in 2024. According to a report from the Idaho Coalition for Safe Healthcare, the ratio of patients to obstetricians increased from 1 per 6,668 Idahoans to 1 for every 8,510 Idahoans between August 2022 and November 2023.

Keller said the medical association has tried hard to find solutions that would help retain physicians, including failed efforts over the past two years to add a health exception in the abortion law.

“Every time there’s been some sort of event that sustained this difficult environment or made it worse, we heard about folks leaving,” Keller said.

The study, which was led by Dr. J. Edward McEachern, is a clear demonstration of what Keller said the medical association already knew anecdotally. It’s also proof, she said, for the elected officials who have accused them of fabricating stories or data and exaggerating the situation. Idaho Attorney General Raúl Labrador said in June 2024 that Idaho doctors who left were doing so because they made “the vast majority of their money” from performing abortions, but he did not provide evidence for that claim. Republican Rep. Brent Crane, who is chairman of the committee where abortion-related legislation would be considered, said in April 2024 that hospital legal counsel was being disingenuous with providers about the vagueness of the law because they want to undermine and ultimately repeal it.

“This kind of dialed-in study really gives us a very clear picture of what we had feared was happening,” Keller said.

Among clinics, not everyone is in agreement about the problems. Scott Tucker, practice administrator for Women’s Health Associates in Boise, said the providers they have lost over the past three years were mostly due to other factors. Increases in clinic wait times are up across the valley because of population growth, he said, and there is a national shortage of OB-GYNs and primary care providers.

“(Idaho’s abortion ban) really hasn’t impacted us much, other than we get a lot of questions and a lot of requests for contraception counseling,” Tucker said.

He added that while it’s never easy to recruit new physicians, and the ban has created extra challenges, they’ve onboarded a new physician once every nine months for the past four years and have two candidates slated to start in 2026. Much of the interest comes from candidates in the Midwest and the East, he said, and “much of what they’re hearing is hyperbole.”

‘I don’t know if it’s fair to the public for them to never feel like this is a problem’

Dr. Becky Uranga practiced with Schroeder for 14 years at OGA, a physician-owned OB-GYN clinic in the Boise area. She watched Schroeder leave, along with another doctor at OGA who went into a different medical field and one who retired.

In June, another longtime OB-GYN announced his departure. Dr. Scott Armstrong, who had practiced in the area for 26 years, sent a letter to patients saying his last day at OGA will be on Oct. 17, when he will move back to the Midwest “to help care for my aging parents and embark on a new chapter in my life.”

Uranga said the practice will have eight practicing OB-GYNs by October — down from 12 a few years ago. And the closure of other labor and delivery units in the area, which is the most populous in the state, has increased workloads for clinics like OGA as well. Uranga’s practice provides the full spectrum of obstetrics and gynecological care for women of all ages, including surgeries and labor and delivery.

“All those people (from the closed clinics) then came to us,” Uranga said.

What used to be two or four deliveries on average in a 24-hour shift is now five to six.

“That’s a lot, and it’s a really special moment that you want to be all in, present and available for whatever could happen … and it doesn’t feel like that anymore,” she said.

When a physician leaves, especially ones that have been practicing for a long time, Uranga said it leaves a hole. Schroeder had 3,000 patients, and many of them were receiving care for menopause, which she specialized in. Uranga sought out extra training to become board certified in menopause care to fill that gap.

While they juggled the transition with fewer physicians, OGA temporarily limited new patients for certain services, including some Medicaid patients. Uranga also isn’t traveling to a rural area of Idaho anymore to provide surgeries, something she and Schroeder used to do together.

When she’s not doing clinic visits, patient calls, surgeries or deliveries, she’s helping with organizing and fundraising efforts for the reproductive rights ballot initiative that would restore abortion access in Idaho. And in between all that, she’s scheduling recruiting calls with potential physicians.

She recently had to tell a recruitment coordinator that they need to be transparent up front about Idaho’s abortion laws, because she wasted too much time talking to candidates who responded with a hard no after learning about the medical environment.

“My nurse will tell you that I am fitting people in before, during, and after (hours) all the time, which isn’t fair to my family, it’s not fair to my nurse, and I don’t know if it’s fair to the public for them to never feel like this is a problem,” Uranga said.

This story has been updated.

Rachel Castor, a single mom of two and teacher, stands outside her home in Sandpoint, Idaho. Castor’s son could not be admitted to the local hospital during an asthma attack because Bonner General Health lost its pediatrician coverage at the same time it closed the labor and delivery unit in 2023 following the Dobbs decision. (Photo by Erick Doxey for States Newsroom)

Editor’s note: This report examines the impact of the U.S. Supreme Court decision that struck down the federal right to abortion three years ago.

Of all the outcomes Rachel Castor could have predicted from Idaho’s abortion ban, her teenage son being denied hospital admission during an asthma attack wasn’t on the list.

Bonner General Hospital in Sandpoint announced its decision to end obstetric services in March 2023, roughly six months after the near-total ban took effect. Among the stated reasons were the state’s legal and political climates concerning health care, and the loss of pediatrician staffing.

Castor saw the fallout from that decision on a night in early April. Her 17-year-old son spent several hours in the Bonner General emergency room, before the staff informed her if his breathing didn’t improve enough for discharge by the morning, he would need to be transferred an hour south to the hospital in Coeur d’Alene. Bonner General had no pediatricians.

“And I was like, ‘Excuse me?’” Castor said.

Elaine Gloeckle, a 66-year-old Boise resident, said she started having trouble with urinary tract infections and hormonal balances recently and found it hard to get an appointment to see a specialist, even with a referral. It was even more difficult to see a doctor for gynecological care. That wasn’t always the case in the more than 30 years she’s lived in the area — she used to have no trouble seeing doctors.

But now for the gynecology visits, along with care for diabetes management and kidney issues, she has seen physician assistants, who are supervised by the doctors within a practice. While she has had good experiences with the assistants, it’s sometimes difficult to feel confident in their assessments when she isn’t sure how much they are consulting with doctors. And the wait times are still long — at least six weeks, usually, in her experience.

“I have no idea who the doctors are, I’ve never met them,” Gloeckle said. “And I don’t know if that means anything, or if it’s just peace of mind that there is a doctor in the mix.”

It’s been three years since the U.S. Supreme Court issued the Dobbs ruling that ended federal abortion protections and allowed more than a dozen states to implement abortion bans. States that were already struggling with physician shortages say they’re getting worse, especially in rural areas, where many labor and delivery units have also closed their doors. Clinics have closed and resources become more strained with every passing year.

Patients and providers have been left to adjust to barriers accessing abortion care; legal battles that continually redraw access lines; and heartbreak and tragedy as women die from easily treatable conditions like miscarriage and infection.

In places like Florida, Kansas and Louisiana, patients have had to find other providers who will help them with miscarriage complications, often requiring them to travel to a neighboring state with legal access because doctors in states with bans are afraid to see them. Other patients experiencing miscarriage or the threat of miscarriage have reported waiting hours in emergency rooms to be seen while hospital staff consult with attorneys about their legal exposure before taking any action. A Florida Republican lawmaker who opposes abortion said recently that she waited hours to receive treatment for an ectopic pregnancy, which is dangerous and nonviable.

Besides Texas, few states that implemented abortion bans after Dobbs have been as much of a spectacle as Idaho. Between a so-called “abortion trafficking” law that first passed in Idaho, the very public loss of many OB-GYNs and maternal-fetal medicine specialists, and a legal fight with the federal government over whether abortions should be permitted in emergencies — a lawsuit that made its way before the U.S. Supreme Court — the state has been a testing ground of sorts for how a near-total abortion ban can play out for communities.

Many health care providers and advocates warned it wouldn’t just be abortion care, or even pregnancy-related care, that would be affected by the Dobbs decision. Dr. Stacy Seyb, a maternal-fetal medicine specialist in Boise, said in July 2023 that the near-total ban would lead to more consequences as time went on.

“It feels like a step backward in improving the health of women and children in the state,” he told The Guardian. Soon, he warned, the state would “see a collapse in women’s health care.”

‘It makes me wonder what else we’ve lost that we don’t know about’

Bonner General Health’s obstetrics unit was one of many rural hospitals that was already struggling before Dobbs with changing community demographics that meant lower birth rates and difficulty recruiting and retaining physicians. Among its population of about 10,000, the hospital admitted fewer than 10 pediatric patients in 2022 and delivered 265 babies, a decrease from prior years.

It’s a familiar situation nationwide. More than 100 hospitals across 26 states have closed labor and delivery services since 2020. To be sure, the reasons for those closures include many more factors than abortion bans, such as low reimbursement rates from Medicaid programs for obstetrical services and difficulty recruiting and retaining physicians.

In its announcement, Bonner General representatives said they tried to recruit active and retired pediatrics providers in the area, but no long-term sustainable solutions were available.

At that time, it didn’t sink in for Castor that having no pediatrician coverage at the hospital would mean no admission to the hospital for minor children.

Sandy Brower, director of quality and risk management at Bonner General Health, told States Newsroom via email that their staff is well-equipped to see pediatrics patients, who are always seen, treated and stabilized in the emergency department. But she confirmed that the hospital does not admit minors because they have no pediatricians on staff.   

“This approach is not unusual in rural health care,” Brower said. “Around the country, critical access hospitals often rely on stabilization and transfer protocols to ensure that patients …  are seen in the most appropriate setting.”

Faced with the prospect of driving her son to Coeur d’Alene herself or guessing what a 44-mile ambulance ride might cost, Castor — a single mom of two and a teacher — decided to drive to the hospital she’d never been to before. But with little information to go on about the transfer process, she was left wandering around the hospital looking for the right place to go while her son’s condition deteriorated.

“He’d already been away from the hospital for an hour for the drive, and he was starting to not do OK, and it was really stressful because I didn’t know what we were supposed to do,” Castor said. “He had his arms wrapped around himself and he just didn’t look good.”

Once she found her way, Castor said everything went well and they were discharged after one more night. But she was left shaken by the experience and her sense of stability about where she lives. She shares custody with a former partner who lives nearby, so it’s difficult to consider moving.

“I think everyone at the hospital is lovely, but it does seem like we don’t have all the services we need,” Castor said. “It makes me wonder what else we’ve lost that we don’t know about.”

Physician recruitment difficult for pediatrics in populous areas too

Amid the implementation of the abortion ban, Idaho’s population exploded. Between 2020 and 2024, more than 152,000 people moved in and the total number crossed 2 million statewide for the first time in its history. On top of all that, at least three clinics that provided labor and delivery services closed, including two in the Boise area, the most populous portion of the state. The combination created longer wait times and more complicated staffing scenarios.

Christine Myron, spokesperson for Idaho’s largest health care system St. Luke’s, told States Newsroom via email that the time to get an appointment with an OB-GYN has increased over the last two years in all of their service areas, which include every region of the state.

Myron also said in recent weeks, a candidate for a pediatrician position declined their offer because of the restrictive obstetrical care environment in Idaho. She said the difficulties in recruiting extend to every specialty of physicians because young families hesitate to move in.

As of Wednesday, St. Luke’s had 10 pediatric physician vacancies, including specialists for pediatric nephrology, oncology, infectious disease and endocrinology. 

Shifting providers, delays frustrating while trying to conceive

For women like Cynthia Dalsing, who has lived in Sandpoint for more than 30 years, it’s difficult because of her age and location. She is 71, and a recent exam showed a polyp in her uterus that needed to be biopsied and removed. That type of exam and procedure could have been done 3 miles away from her house a few years ago, she said, before Bonner General closed its labor and delivery services.

Instead, she drove back and forth to Coeur d’Alene to complete pre-operative steps, including X-rays, blood work and an EKG, then to have the procedure, then to go back again to talk about the results.

“It’s taken weeks to get care that normally would be pretty routine,” Dalsing said. “It’s a 20-minute procedure.”

The procedure was dilation and curettage, Dalsing said, often referred to as a D&C, which is the same treatment sometimes used for an early abortion or miscarriage where pregnancy tissue needs to be removed from the uterus. When she mentioned the upcoming appointment to a friend, Dalsing said they asked if that was still allowed, given the abortion ban, not knowing it’s a common procedure for many other conditions.

“That’s how clueless and confused people are about all this,” Dalsing said. 

Younger women like 36-year-old Danielle Young, who has lived in Boise since the early 2000s, report issues receiving care as well. Young said since 2016, she has switched providers five times because they kept leaving — three of those were within the past three years.

Young said she had to wait eight months for an annual gynecological wellness appointment with a nurse practitioner, and when the time came, the exam felt rushed and chaotic. After that, she decided to switch practices. Young said it took another six months to be seen by the doctor she chose, but it has been worth the wait.

At the same time, Young said she and her husband are trying to conceive, and he has had difficulties finding a clinic where he can get fertility testing. She said most of the past year has been wasted just trying to reach someone on the phone who can tell them where he should go and when he can get an appointment.

“It’s been frustrating for us, because we would like to have children or a child, and I’m getting older,” Young said.