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‘It’s a safe space’: Mobile midwifery clinics meet patients where they are

Midwife Sheila Simms Watson treats Isis Daaga during a pregnancy checkup at the Southern Birth Justice Network’s mobile midwifery clinic in Miami on March 21. (Photo by Nada Hassanein/Stateline)

Midwife Sheila Simms Watson treats Isis Daaga during a pregnancy checkup at the Southern Birth Justice Network’s mobile midwifery clinic in Miami on March 21. (Photo by Nada Hassanein/Stateline)

MIAMI — Midwife Sheila Simms Watson leaned to gently press on the pregnant woman’s belly. Me’Asia Taylor lay on a bed fitted with tie-dyed purple printed sheets in the corner of the RV.

Far from a typical camper, this RV houses a mobile midwifery clinic for prenatal, postpartum and women’s general health care.

“Roll when you’re getting up, and we can help you. You can sit there for a moment, all right, so you’re not lightheaded, not dizzy,” said Watson, whom patients and doulas call “Mama Sheila.”

Me’Asia Taylor, pregnant with her first child, is pictured inside the mobile midwifery clinic run by the Southern Birth Justice Network on March 7. (Photo by Nada Hassanein/Stateline)
Me’Asia Taylor, pregnant with her first child, is pictured inside the mobile midwifery clinic run by the Southern Birth Justice Network on March 7. (Photo by Nada Hassanein/Stateline)

Calm and slow, led by Watson’s soothing and attentive demeanor, the appointments are unrushed.

Run by the Southern Birth Justice Network, the mobile midwifery clinic brings care to majority-Black and Latino neighborhoods across Miami-Dade County several times a month. The clinic aims to offer a more relaxed setting, where women are comfortable and heard, their cultures are integrated, and they can connect with doulas from diverse backgrounds.

On the half-moon bench inside the RV, Watson, a doula and a midwife in training sit with patients. They take blood pressures and draw blood. They ask the women about their lives: How is their mental health and sleep? Do they have support at home? Do they want to give birth at a hospital or birth center with a midwife?

Taylor said pre-eclampsia, a dangerous pregnancy condition, runs in her family. She wanted to make sure she had space and time to express her concerns about her first pregnancy.

Taylor said she wants a midwife for her delivery. Many women of color have reported feeling marginalized or dismissed in medical settings. “I’ve just seen too many people have bad experiences,” Taylor told Watson.

The U.S. has markedly higher maternal mortality and infant mortality rates compared with other high-income countries, and women and babies of color fare the worst. Black women’s maternal death rates are three times higher than those of white women, and American Indian and Alaska Native women’s rates are twice that of white women. Researchers point to implicit bias, less regular access to prenatal care and higher rates of poverty.

OB-GYN shortages and labor and delivery units closing continue to make getting care harder. Last year, more than two dozen hospital labor and delivery units across the nation closed, including some in South Florida. And pregnant patients living miles away, or feeling uneasy about going to the doctor, may even forgo care.

Midwives can help fill gaps, maternal health equity advocates say, and mobile clinics can meet patients where they are.

Midwife Sheila Simms Watson, left, talks with Isis Daaga during a pregnancy checkup at the Southern Birth Justice Network’s mobile midwifery clinic in Miami on March 21. (Photo by Nada Hassanein/Stateline)
Midwife Sheila Simms Watson, left, talks with Isis Daaga during a pregnancy checkup at the Southern Birth Justice Network’s mobile midwifery clinic in Miami on March 21. (Photo by Nada Hassanein/Stateline)

“It really helps to disrupt this idea that patients must navigate these complex systems to receive care — and instead, (mobile midwifery) reimagines care as something that should be responsive to the needs of patients and should be community-centered,” said Tufts University professor and maternal health scholar Ndidiamaka Amutah-Onukagha.

But mobile units are not as common for midwifery as they are for other areas of care, such as dentistry or family medicine, the American College of Nurse-Midwives told Stateline. Other prenatal mobile outreach efforts in the state include an OB-GYN-run mobile unit by the University of Florida that serves areas around north-central Alachua County and an operation called The Midwife Bus in Central Florida.

To increase access to care, maternal health advocates are also pushing states to change regulations that restrict midwifery. The American College of Nurse-Midwives recently filed a lawsuit against Mississippi for requiring nurse-midwives to have agreements with physicians in order to practice. This week, Jamarah Amani, a midwife and the executive director of the Southern Birth Justice Network, joined other plaintiffs in filing a lawsuit against Georgia over its restrictions. But supporters of the rules say they are meant to protect patients and foster communication between clinicians.

Offering culturally centered prenatal care that women are more inclined to use can help address inequities in maternal health, Amani said. The group trains doulas, offers telehealth, provides referrals such as to mental health therapists, and advocates for equitable policies across the South.

Most of the mobile clinic’s clients — about 70% — are on Medicaid or uninsured, and the clinic is funded through federal and university grants, as well as donations.

“(Midwifery) presents like a luxury concierge-type of service,” Amani said. “Our goal is to really change that and to bring it back to the community in a very grassroots way.”

Preserving tradition

The Southern Birth Justice Network keeps a small drum on a table at a nearby booth. It represents the heartbeat, and ancestral reverence, Amani said. Drums are a universal language, and the instrument is meant to symbolize culture.

For doulas and many midwives like Amani and Watson, bringing their profession to communities today is the continuation of a significant part of Black American heritage.

Jamarah Amani, executive director of the Southern Birth Justice Network, sits in front of the group’s mobile midwifery unit on March 7, showing plans for the freestanding birth center the group plans to open next year. (Photo by Nada Hassanein/Stateline)
Jamarah Amani, executive director of the Southern Birth Justice Network, sits in front of the group’s mobile midwifery unit on March 7, showing plans for the freestanding birth center the group plans to open next year. (Photo by Nada Hassanein/Stateline)
The Southern Birth Justice Network keeps a small drum at the midwifery clinic’s booth. The drum represents the profession’s connection to culture and ancestry. (Photo by Nada Hassanein/Stateline)
The Southern Birth Justice Network keeps a small drum at the midwifery clinic’s booth. The drum represents the profession’s connection to culture and ancestry. (Photo by Nada Hassanein/Stateline)
Jamarah Amani, executive director of the Southern Birth Justice Network, sports shoes decorated with the words “Grow Birth Centers, Grow Community” while at a health fair in Miami on March 7. (Photo by Nada Hassanein/Stateline)
Jamarah Amani, executive director of the Southern Birth Justice Network, sports shoes decorated with the words “Grow Birth Centers, Grow Community” while at a health fair in Miami on March 7. (Photo by Nada Hassanein/Stateline)
Ada “Becky” Sprouse, whose portrait adorns the Southern Birth Justice Network’s booth by the clinic, first started the mobile clinic around 2008, bringing care to farmworker families in South Florida. She passed the clinic on to Jamarah Amani, who relaunched it along with the broader scope of the Southern Birth Justice Network. (Photo by Nada Hassanein/Stateline)
Ada “Becky” Sprouse, whose portrait adorns the Southern Birth Justice Network’s booth by the clinic, first started the mobile clinic around 2008, bringing care to farmworker families in South Florida. She passed the clinic on to Jamarah Amani. (Photo by Nada Hassanein/Stateline)

Throughout history, Black midwives were venerated in their communities. Many practices were rooted in West African traditions. These midwives were the keepers of Black ancestral records, and delivered many white women’s babies. Enslaved women who were midwives traveled for deliveries. Some routes, long and traversed by foot, were dangerous in the deep rural South. During the Jim Crow era, Black Americans were denied care at hospitals or given inferior care.

“They only had protection if someone would send a carriage for them if they were going to deliver a white woman’s baby. But to care for the Black families, they often had to go in the middle of the night, alone,” Amani said. “We talk about the legacy of Black midwives as health care providers, but also as social pillars, as community leaders, as resistors of oppression.”

In the 20th century, medical institutions began to oppose midwifery, sometimes using racist and sexist campaigns to target the practice. They argued it was unhygienic and lobbied across states to dismantle midwifery. At the same time, while developing the field of obstetrics, doctors conducted gynecological experiments on Black women. The American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists has acknowledged this history and said it’s committed to fighting racism and inequities.

Dr. Jamila Perritt, an OB-GYN and president and CEO of Physicians for Reproductive Health, said that in order to address structural barriers and close gaps, policies have to prioritize access to care, such as allowing midwives to expand their practices. Throughout the South especially, states still restrict midwives from practicing independently, despite widespread maternal health care deserts. She also pointed to research showing midwifery is associated with fewer C-sections, less preterm labor and better patient satisfaction.

“Expanding access to midwifery care, and expanding collaborations between physicians and midwives, only improves outcomes,” Perritt said.

Cultivating trust

On a recent breezy and brisk Saturday morning, the Southern Birth Justice Network’s midwives and doulas were stationed in the parking lot of the Freedom Lab, a local community center that hosts food and clothing distribution and a free urgent care center.

At the booth by the mobile clinic, under the shade of a royal-purple awning, meditation music, low-key and mellow, reverberated from a small speaker. There was a cooler filled with oranges, water and other snacks for the clinic’s pregnant patients.

Doulas chat with patient Isis Daaga, seated left, at the mobile midwifery clinic’s booth in Miami at the Freedom Lab on March 21. (Photo by Nada Hassanein/Stateline)
Doulas chat with patient Isis Daaga, seated left, at the mobile midwifery clinic’s booth in Miami at the Freedom Lab on March 21. (Photo by Nada Hassanein/Stateline)

“I’m going to keep giving you food. You need to eat enough,” one doula told a patient, handing her an orange and a liter of spring water.

Staff had surveys to help assess a new patient’s needs, and Florida-specific pamphlets on pregnant patients’ rights. The group is working on other state-specific guides for Louisiana, Massachusetts, Tennessee and Texas.

The table also held a portrait of the late midwife Ada “Becky” Sprouse, who started the mobile midwife clinic around 2008. She’d drive it to the city of Homestead, an agricultural hub in Miami-Dade County. There, she offered free midwifery care to migrant farmworkers, many of whom couldn’t afford care throughout their pregnancies.

Sprouse passed the clinic on to Amani, who relaunched the mobile unit and broadened the scope of the Southern Birth Justice Network.

Jamarah Amani, executive director of the Southern Birth Justice Network, right, chats with midwife Sheila Simms Watson in front of the group’s RV mobile midwifery clinic in Miami at the Freedom Lab on March 21. (Photo by Nada Hassanein/Stateline)
Jamarah Amani, executive director of the Southern Birth Justice Network, right, chats with midwife Sheila Simms Watson in front of the group’s RV mobile midwifery clinic in Miami at the Freedom Lab on March 21. (Photo by Nada Hassanein/Stateline)

Patients told Stateline trust was one of the main reasons they sought out the clinic. One patient said she spent 2 1/2 hours on public transit that day so that she could see the team.

For now, deliveries take place at hospitals or neighboring birth centers, where some of the group’s midwives also work. But the organization recently bought a building to open its own freestanding birth center, aiming for next year, along with a larger RV.

One patient, Isis Daaga, turned to Amani to deliver her other children after her first birth at a hospital. Despite the pressure she felt and her need to push during labor, Daaga recalled, hospital staff prevented her from delivering.

“They literally held my knees together,” Daaga said. “They were like, ‘the doctor’s not here yet,’ and the nurses were scared to deliver the baby.” In many hospitals, protocol is to wait for the doctor in case an emergency occurs.

By the time the doctor came, Daaga had a severe perineal tear, and she delivered the baby in one push. She had been in labor for 15 hours.

“I was in pain, I was upset,” said Daaga, a mental health therapist who is 35 weeks pregnant.

At the mobile clinic and with the midwives, Daaga said she feels supported.

“They make me feel the way I try to make my clients feel, like, it’s a safe space. You’re not judged here. I have a lot going on,” she said. “If I’m MIA or something, most of them will call and text me and (say), ‘Girl, you need to come in.’”

Stateline reporter Nada Hassanein can be reached at nhassanein@stateline.org.

This story was originally produced by Stateline, which is part of States Newsroom, a nonprofit news network which includes Wisconsin Examiner, and is supported by grants and a coalition of donors as a 501c(3) public charity.

Reproductive health care restrictions likely to repel provider workforce, research shows

Executive Director Robin Marty said she was on the brink of closing the WAWC Healthcare clinic until she managed to hire an OB-GYN last year who’s from Alabama and willing to work under the state’s near-total abortion ban. (Photo by Vasha Hunt/Alabama Reflector)

Executive Director Robin Marty said she was on the brink of closing the WAWC Healthcare clinic until she managed to hire an OB-GYN last year who’s from Alabama and willing to work under the state’s near-total abortion ban. (Photo by Vasha Hunt/Alabama Reflector)

When an Alabama clinic’s only OB-GYN left the state to provide abortion care in Colorado, the head of operations thought the facility would have to close.

But Robin Marty, executive director at WAWC Healthcare in Tuscaloosa, hired a doctor in August who she called a “unicorn” — someone who’s from Alabama and, after training outside of the state, returned home to practice medicine.

Marty said Alabama’s near-total abortion ban could cause physicians to practice elsewhere after they finish their residencies.

“Doctors don’t want to worry about surveillance, potential arrests and other legal issues,” she said.

study published in March found that applications to medical residency programs in states with abortion restrictions have declined compared to states where abortion remained mostly legal. The findings are an “early signal” that the U.S. Supreme Court’s decision nearly four years ago overturning federal abortion rights protections may exacerbate health care shortages, said lead author Dr. Anisha Ganguly.

majority of doctors end up practicing medicine in states where they trained. Obstetrician and gynecology training programs typically take four years to complete, so the full scope of how abortion restrictions affect where physicians work after they complete their residencies remains to be seen.

Still, experts said the findings could spell trouble for the future of the reproductive health care workforce in states with abortion restrictions, some of which are already plagued with maternity care deserts.

Doctors say bans limit training, standards of care

OB-GYNs affiliated with Physicians for Reproductive Health who either trained or work in states with abortion bans told States Newsroom that restrictions after the Supreme Court decision hamstrung their ability to offer reproductive care and affected the education of medical residents.

Dr. Neha Ali grew up in Texas and trained there, too. But by the end of her OB-GYN residency’s second year, the state enacted SB 8, a six-week abortion ban that allowed residents in the state to sue providers or anyone who helped someone terminate a pregnancy. After the Dobbs decision in June 2022, a near-total abortion ban took effect in Texas.

“I knew I wanted to be an abortion provider before I started OB-GYN residency, and I chose to be in Texas for my residency training because I wanted to experience what that’s like in a state with barriers. But ultimately, the barriers became too large,” Ali said.

After she finished residency in 2024, Ali moved to Colorado, a state with strong abortion-rights protections, where she practices complex family planning.

Ali said she talks to medical students about her experience training in Texas, where she was not able to perform any dilation and evacuations — a second-trimester abortion procedure — during residency.

“I do think it’s very valuable to see what it’s like to be in a restrictive state and understand what that is like to be a provider there, but that doesn’t sell people on a residency for four years,” she said.

OB-GYN Dr. Louis Monnig trained in Kentucky before the state banned abortion.

“Making it difficult or putting up barriers to that training just limits the abilities of any doctor who provides reproductive care to have opportunities to get exposure and experience, and just get better at what they’re doing,” he said.

Monnig completed his residency in June 2023 and moved back to his home state of Louisiana because of his connections to the region and its health care disparities. “It felt like it was worth it to come back,” he said.

In October 2024, a Louisiana law classifying mifepristone and misoprostol as controlled dangerous substances took effect.

“It made me lose faith that lawmakers were doing any of these things to actually protect patients or patient safety,” he said.

The medications are used not only for abortions, but miscarriages and other conditions, too. The law has sowed confusion among health care providers and led some to practice emergency drills to access the drugs during obstetric emergencies, Louisiana Illuminator reported. Monnig said the law has “changed some of the day-to-day operational workflow for patient care,” especially for situations where misoprostol is used, such as labor induction and postpartum hemorrhaging.

Patients have faced issues when trying to get prescriptions filled: Pharmacists have called Monnig’s office to make sure a patient wasn’t having an abortion after he prescribed misoprostol for conditions such as cervical stenosis — when it’s difficult to insert a medical instrument in the cervical canal.

Drop in applications to ban states’ residency programs

Out of more than 22 million applications to 4,315 residency programs across the U.S., 67% were submitted to programs in states without abortion restrictions between 2018 and 2023, the new research showed. Thirty-three percent went to programs in states with restrictions.

Fewer women than men applied to train in states with abortion restrictions before the Supreme Court’s landmark abortion ruling, according to the study, and that disparity widened after more than a dozen states enacted abortion bans. The number of men applying to residency programs in states with abortion restrictions — mostly in the South and the Midwest — also decreased significantly.

“When there’s a decreased level of interest in these states, it suggests to us that there’s an evolving health care workforce shortage in these states,” said Ganguly, an internal medicine physician and an assistant professor at University of North Carolina’s Division of General Medicine and Epidemiology.

Many states with abortion bans — IdahoIowa and Georgia, for example — are also facing labor and delivery unit closures, particularly in rural areas where hospitals struggle with provider recruitment. Health officials in these states listed improvements to maternal health as a priority in their applications to the federal Rural Health Care Transformation Program, but solutions will take years to implement.

Shortages affect more than one specialty. Ganguly said OB-GYNs have historically offered the bulk of abortion-related care in the U.S., but it’s increasingly important in emergency medicine, family medicine and internal medicine. Primary care providers and emergency medicine doctors often diagnose pregnancy complications such as miscarriages, and internists help women who have chronic disease manage and plan for pregnancy.

Dr. Hector Chapa, an OB-GYN who teaches obstetrics and gynecology at Texas A&M University and is a member of the American Association of Pro–Life Obstetricians and Gynecologists, took issue with the study’s approach.

“It’s essential to understand that this study is not specific to OB‑GYN residency programs, and by grouping OB‑GYN with family medicine, internal medicine and emergency medicine, the study assumes that all specialties are affected equally, despite their very different levels of involvement in abortion. This broad grouping risks introducing bias into the results,” he said in a statement.

Ganguly said her team did examine applications to OB-GYN residency programs in isolation to affirm findings of a decline among applicants in abortion-restricted states. Looking at other specialties, too, was meant to provide clarity about how bans affect the health care workforce more broadly.

OB-GYN education and the maternal health care workforce

The latest study adds to a body of research examining how the Supreme Court’s decision on abortion in 2022 affected training after medical school, particularly for those specializing in reproductive health care.

In the 2023-2024 application cycle, the number of applicants to training programs in states with abortion bans decreased by 4.2% compared to the previous cycle, while there was less than a 1% decrease in applications to residency programs in states where abortion is legal, according to the American Association of Medical Colleges.

In some states, abortion bans have definitively led to an exodus of OB-GYNs and maternal fetal medicine specialists. Idaho lost 35% of its doctors who provide obstetrics between August 2022 and December 2024, according to a study published in July.

Having reproductive health providers flee states with abortion bans is “devastating,” according to Pamela Merritt, the executive director of Medical Students for Choice.

“It’s a public health disaster that we’re going to see the consequences of decades to come,” she said.

Merritt’s organization has chapters at several medical schools in states with abortion bans. She said students are not getting adequate training, and some are even discouraged from discussing abortion.

In February, Texas Tech University Health Sciences Center canceled a Medical Students for Choice chapter’s talk with an OB-GYN who wrote a book about providing abortion care later in pregnancy. School officials told The Texas Tribune hosting the event on campus was not in the university’s best interests.

“Everybody who graduates from medical school in Texas should know that there’s this thing called third-trimester abortion, that when the life of the mother is at risk, you legally can provide this care,” Merritt said.

Republican Gov. Greg Abbott signed legislation last year clarifying that doctors can offer pregnant women abortions during medical emergencies. The Texas Medical Board released guidelines for the abortion law this year, nearly half a decade after the state banned most abortions and at least four Texans died after being denied prompt abortion care, ProPublica reported.

Program helps residents in restrictive states get abortion care training

“Every single physician, nurse and health care provider needs to be educated about abortion care,” said Dr. Jody Steinauer, an OB-GYN and the director of the Bixby Center for Global Reproductive Health at the University of California in San Francisco. “This is a huge crisis in OB-GYN specifically: All OB-GYNs must have the competence and the skill to safely empty the uterus. Even if the individual is personally uncomfortable providing abortion care, they have to be able to empty the uterus to save someone’s life in an emergency.”

Steinauer leads the Ryan Residency Training Program, which works with OB-GYN residencies across the country to ensure comprehensive abortion and family planning rotations. Nearly a dozen states lack Ryan programs, and most of them have near-total abortion bans.

She said residencies in states with abortion bans are struggling to make sure their students have the skills to provide abortion: “We’re at risk of having a whole generation of OB-GYN graduates who are not skilled to provide the care they need to provide.”

To remedy this issue, the Ryan Program has helped to establish 20 partnerships with schools in abortion-restrictive states to train OB-GYN medical residents in states with reproductive rights protections.

Steinauer said the rotations are between two to four weeks and complicated to plan, but they help doctors learn procedural skills, how to manage medication abortions and counseling.

The rotations also help OB-GYNs navigate pain management during obstetric procedures, communicate effectively with abortion patients and familiarize themselves with ultrasounds, she said. These skills are important for providing the full spectrum of reproductive health care, from inserting IUDs to treating miscarriages, the doctor said.

“It’s such a refreshing experience for them to be working in a state without a ban, and they get to see abortion as normal health care,” she said.

Stateline reporter Elisha Brown can be reached at ebrown@stateline.org.

This story was originally produced by Stateline, which is part of States Newsroom, a nonprofit news network which includes Wisconsin Examiner, and is supported by grants and a coalition of donors as a 501c(3) public charity.

Opinion: Wisconsin must regulate crisis pregnancy centers to protect patients 

Exterior of a low building with signs reading "Women's Care Center" and "ENTER HERE," a glass door, accessibility parking sign, and a roadside sign advertising "Free ultrasound"
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State Rep. Lisa Subeck, D-Madison, this month introduced legislation requiring crisis pregnancy centers to obtain permission from clients before sharing their sensitive health information.

Crisis pregnancy centers (CPCs), also known as unregulated pregnancy centers or pregnancy resource centers, provide some services for pregnant people but largely aim to dissuade clients from choosing abortion care. Importantly, most CPCs are not licensed medical facilities and are intentionally vague about their inability and unwillingness to provide abortions or make referrals. They attract clients with targeted advertising that promises free pregnancy testing, ultrasounds and options counseling.

Without the restrictions proposed by Subeck and more like it, Wisconsinites will continue to be victimized by this industry.

Since CPCs are not medical providers and do not charge for services,they are not subject to the same consumer protection laws and licensing requirements, including the Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act, or HIPAA.

Without confidentiality protections, CPCs are not required to protect sensitive client information and may misuse private client data with no accountability. Subeck’s bill would help close this loophole and ensure that client information is secure.

While this legislation would be a step in the right direction, privacy is just one of many instances in which CPCs violate medical ethics.

With the funding they receive from faith-based organizations, anti-abortion advocacy groups and taxpayer dollars, CPCs may present themselves in ways that resemble medical settings. Staff and volunteers may wear white coats, visit with clients in exam rooms and adopt language used by clinicians. But many of their services fail to meet evidence-based standards of care.

For example, CPCs have been reported to overestimate gestational age to convince clients they are too far along in pregnancy to legally access abortion. They also readily share medically inaccurate information about abortion.

CPCs across Wisconsin claim that abortion can lead to depression, substance abuse, nightmares, and future fertility issues. Major medical organizations say there is no evidence that abortion leads to mental illness or negative impacts on future fertility. In fact, research suggests that denying people abortion care is associated with worse outcomes to their long-term health and well-being.

Many CPC websites list “abortion reversal” as a service. This involves taking progesterone to “reverse” the effects of mifepristone, the first medicine used in medication abortion. University of California-Davis researchers attempted to test the effectiveness of this treatment, but the study was stopped early due to ethical and safety concerns. The American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists has determined that abortion reversal is “not supported by science.”

Despite their questionable practices, CPCs in Wisconsin continue to benefit from public funding, and some state legislators want them to receive even more. In 2023, Sen. Robert Quinn, R-Birchwood, proposed legislation that would give $1 million a year to Choose Life Wisconsin, a statewide network of CPCs.

Funds raised through Choose Life license plates are also directed to CPCs. Meanwhile, some of Wisconsin’s legislative Republicans have not supported measures that would benefit pregnant people and new parents. Assembly Speaker Robin Vos, R-Rochester, repeatedly blocked proposals to expand postpartum Medicaid coverage, calling it “an expansion of welfare,” until the Assembly this session finally sent the bill to Gov. Tony Evers’ desk.

In Wisconsin, legitimate providers of abortion care must navigate a litany of restrictions. Targeted Regulation of Abortion Providers, or TRAP laws, are widely criticized by medical groups and exist only to make obtaining and providing abortion care harder. Yet CPCs are free to operate under limited regulations while they enjoy our tax dollars.

In other states, efforts to regulate CPCs have failed on the grounds that these organizations are protected under the First Amendment. But these centers are a growing public health risk, and protecting people’s health and safety should take priority. This is especially important as the network of CPCs continues to grow. In Wisconsin, there are just five clinics that provide abortion care, compared to an estimated 60 CPCs.

When pregnant people reach out for support, they deserve to be met with compassion, honesty and the opportunity to consider all of their options. The ongoing failure of our lawmakers to regulate these facilities is an affront to evidence-based sexual and reproductive healthcare. It is time that Wisconsin’s lawmakers uphold respect and humanity, not deception and manipulation.

Layne Donovan was born and raised in Wisconsin and holds a degree from Barnard College. She has studied the history of abortion in the United States, and currently works in reproductive health, rights, and justice. 

Guest commentaries reflect the views of their authors and are independent of the nonpartisan, in-depth reporting produced by Wisconsin Watch’s newsroom staff. Want to join the Wisconversion? See our guidelines for submissions.

Opinion: Wisconsin must regulate crisis pregnancy centers to protect patients  is a post from Wisconsin Watch, a non-profit investigative news site covering Wisconsin since 2009. Please consider making a contribution to support our journalism.

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