“I love my children and I feel like a very good mom,” said Caeson’s mother, who asked to be identified with her first initial, T. “But because of this pregnancy, I could not offer them.” One in 10 people of reproductive age in America lives in Texas, which will soon be involved in half of the states in banning almost all abortions. Texas’ conservative leadership has spent decades restricting access to abortion while cutting public spending and publicly funded health care. Now, even some anti-abortion advocates say their state is sadly unprepared for a possible increase in births among poor women. The overthrow of Roe “creates a sense of urgency that will now create, hopefully, resources. But unfortunately, there is this gap, “said Aubrey Schlackman, founder of Blue Haven Ranch, a non-profit anti-abortion organization that provides housing and other assistance to the T family. “We want to reduce abortions,” Schlackman said. “But we personally were not ready to handle an influx and I know that so many of the other nonprofits we work with are also not ready for that.” Texas is one of the most dangerous states in the nation for having a baby. The state’s maternal mortality rate is one of the worst in the country, with black women accounting for a disproportionate death rate. The state’s infant mortality rate, with more than five deaths per thousand births in 2020, translates to nearly 2,000 infant deaths a year. Texas has chosen not to expand Medicaid under the Affordable Care Act, which has closed hospitals and created rural health care “deserts” where obstetricians are rare and prenatal care even rarer. More than a quarter of women of childbearing age are uninsured, the highest rate in the country. Medicaid covers low-income women during pregnancy and for two months after giving birth, compared to 12 months in most states. A proposal in the Texas House of Representatives to extend postpartum coverage to 12 months was reduced to six months by the Senate. Tens of thousands of children born to low-income parents are languishing on the waiting list for subsidized child care. In September last year, Texas passed Senate Bill 8, which bans abortions for patients with detectable fetal heart activity, which generally begins at about six weeks. A recent Times analysis suggests that abortion rates in Texas fell by only 10% after the bill was passed, as more women traveled overseas or ordered medical abortions by mail. But poor patients are often deprived of these options.
From Opinion: The End of Roe v. Wade
Comment by Times Opinion writers and columnists on the Supreme Court’s decision to terminate the constitutional right to abortion.
“Assuming only 10 percent of women are unable to have an abortion, that’s a huge increase in fertility,” said Elizabeth Seper, a law professor at the University of Texas at Austin who studies religious freedom. the law on health and equality. “There is no way there are institutions ready to meet this demand.” Three years ago, T. was an accountant in a chain of fitness centers. At $ 36 an hour, it was the best paid job he had ever done. She was proud to be the main breadwinner of her family after her high school partner, whom she had been with since high school, lost his job as a builder during the pandemic. But early in her pregnancy with Caeson, she developed complications that eventually forced her to quit her job. The family saved money by moving to smaller and smaller homes until the end of last year, when they finally had to move in with their partner’s mother. The couple was unloading their belongings, with their little daughter in her stroller nearby, when she “grabbed me”, T. said. Her partner drowned her, he said, until she lost consciousness. When she was revived by a stranger, she found it difficult to speak and a ring of bruises turned her neck. Terrified for her children, she took refuge the next morning in a shelter for victims of domestic violence, she said. She said she had never had an abortion before. But the prospect of raising four young children on her own and giving birth alone filled T. with despair. She was in pain for the needs of her three children and for the sacrifices. “If I do that, I will make sure they are always well, always taken care of,” he said, recalling what he thought. “It was a very difficult decision, but I felt it was smart for me.” Her sister took her to the Southwestern Women’s Surgery Center, an abortion company in Dallas. But Texas had just passed Senate Bill 8, and providers told T. she was about seven weeks pregnant – too far for an abortion in Texas. Could he travel to New Mexico? In the waiting room, T. cried with tears. The journey was impossible. She had no money and so few childcare options that she had brought her daughter to the appointment. He did not know about medical abortion. T. re-entered her sister, who was waiting in the parking lot. She was sitting in the car, upset, when an “pavement consultant” against abortion approached. “You are not alone. If you are pregnant and need help, we can help you,” the sidewalk consultant told her. “I just started crying,” T. said, “with a sense of relief.” The next day the woman T. had met in the parking lot led her to Birth Choice, an anti-abortion pregnancy resource center located in the same office complex as the abortion provider. Some anti-abortion pregnancy centers have come under scrutiny for misleading or misinforming women seeking abortion care. But at that moment, “They asked me the perfect questions,” T. said of his Birth Choice consultant. “I’m fine; Are my children doing well? What did I need? “Be careful, I left it all,” he said. “They gave me everything there: a baby bag, diapers, formula, clothes for me. “They even gave me some clothes for my daughter and a toy,” said T. “Then my counselor comes back and says, ‘I found a place for you.’” The place was Argyle Blue Haven Ranch, about 45 minutes from Dallas. Blue Haven provides housing, housekeeping assistance, vocational training and financial and other counseling for up to one year after giving birth to pregnant women with existing children. Among Americans seeking abortion care, 60 percent are already mothers and half have two or more children. Most are in their late 20s and poor. Ms. Schlackman, 34, a former dental hygienist, evangelical Christian and mother of two, founded Blue Haven in 2020. She grew up believing that women seek care for abortion for convenience. “Now I can understand why they would choose it,” he said. Ms Schlackman urges women to attend group religious services with a strong religious component in a community church on Monday night. Blue Haven is not seeking money from the government or anyone else who might question its religious approach. Donations are needed from abortion advocates as well as opponents, said Ms. Schlackman, reading a note from one who sent $ 50: “I do not share your beliefs about abortion and Christianity, but I hope you will use your strength. to encourage similar initiatives elsewhere “. Blue Haven supports five families and there are 12 on the waiting list. The cost is about $ 2,500 per family per month for housing and utilities, plus gas and unexpected household expenses. A Boston financier who read about Blue Haven and offered to help recently negotiated a used car deal for a poorly rated mother. There is currently no ranch. families live in rented apartments. Ms. Schlackman and her husband Bryan plan to buy a piece of rolling stock outside Denton, Texas, and build a complex of small houses, a meeting house and group kitchen, as well as open spaces and animals for “rural therapy”. . Standing in the wheat field where she envisions the houses will stand, Ms Schlackman estimated she would need to raise $ 13 million for three years of land, construction and operating capital. Following Roe’s ouster, Blue Haven received $ 25,000 in donations over two days. His focus on the Bible and his emphasis on Christian family ideals make some Blue Haven mothers feel uncomfortable. But for T., the team offered a lifeline in a time of declining choice. One late Monday night she attended a group session while her children played in the virgin church playground, under the supervision of volunteer grandparents. Other volunteers shared a dinner. Blue Haven threw a baby shower for T. and his supporters bought everything in a register created by Ms. Schlackman. (T. chose a theme with the zoo animals for her son’s emulsion, in shades of blue and green.) When Caeson was born, Mrs. Schlackman was there caring for T. at the birth center where she gave birth her own sons. Blue Haven help will end about a year after Cason’s first birthday. “The pressure is really high,” T. said Thursday, four days after giving birth to Caeson. “I have a year to rebuild my life while my body is healing and to take care of four children at the same time. It’s scary. I try not to think about what will happen when I leave the program. “Do I know that I can be a wonderful mom, can I take care of my children, keep my children healthy and safe, and have a roof over our heads and food?” She hopes, she said, to find another job as an accountant and eventually move into her home. He said he had a message for the Texas legislature. “You do not know what is best for any family, you did not protect me or my children. I protect my children. Only a mom can know what is best for herself …
