This Tragedy Brought To You By The State of Texas

A guest post by Rachel Vindman

My first miscarriage was on Mother’s Day. Alex was doing field exercises (Army stuff) so I flew home to tell my family I was pregnant. I never got a chance to tell them because I started spotting, so my big news turned out to be that I was having a miscarriage. I couldn’t even talk to Alex because he was “in the field.” It was horrible.

Late in the evening on Mother’s Day, I started having pain and my parents took me to the emergency room. To this day I don’t think I’ve been in as much physical pain as I was that night. I spent the night in the hospital until they got my pain under control, then I was able to fly back to Seattle a day later and I miscarried naturally. My body healed, but I don’t think my heart ever did. 

I had another miscarriage a few months later and eventually three ectopic pregnancies as well. Our journey to parenthood was long and very sad, but as difficult as it was, at least I never had to wonder if I would have access to the care I needed.

A few weeks ago, I was struck by a post on Twitter from Ryan Hamilton, a man in Texas whose pregnant wife learned their 13-week-old baby no longer had a heartbeat. When they went to an emergency center, they were sent home with a prescription for medication rather than removing the fetal tissue with surgery, the usual plan of care in a second trimester miscarriage. When the medication didn’t work after two days, she returned to the same emergency center and was told they couldn’t help her “under the current situation” in Texas. 

She returned home but soon had a dangerous amount of bleeding and was rushed to a different hospital. Upon arrival, the nurse exclaimed, “Thank god you got here quickly!” Click here to see Ryan tell his story: Part One Part Two

Ryan’s wife was not given the same care she would have received in a state without an abortion ban. Even though she was at risk of developing an infection. Even though she was in physical and emotional pain. Even though she knew the care plan she wanted, she was not allowed to make that decision. 

That decision was not made by her and her husband or her physicians and care team. It was made by the STATE OF TEXAS. 

And Ryan Hamilton and his wife aren’t the only ones. In April I interviewed Amanda Zurawski, another Texas woman whose life was forever changed by the current Texas abortion laws. When her water broke at 18 weeks, well shy of viability even with extreme medical intervention, Amanda was denied an induction because her baby still had a heartbeat. She eventually went into septic shock and only then was surgery performed. As a result of the horrific ordeal she was forced to endure, she is no longer able to get pregnant.

Amanda and several other brave women in Texas sued the state to push them to clarify the “gray areas” of their abortion laws. They won their case but last week the ruling was overturned by the Texas Supreme Court. The court essentially told Amanda, Ryan Hamilton and his wife, and many other women that their experiences do not matter. For the families involved, these are life-shattering events. But for Texas politicians, they’re simply acceptable consequences.

It is estimated that 1 in 5 pregnancies end in miscarriage. No one should be forced to endure the grief of loss with an extra layer of pain at the hands of intrusive government overreach.

Sometimes I get frustrated with what I’m doing to help in November. To be more specific, I never feel like I’m doing enough. Sometimes I’m asked what I’d be doing if I had no limitations and that’s easy: I would amplify more stories of women who have been harmed by these regressive laws. I would tell the stories of their partners. I would tell the stories of the cruel things that have been said to them by heartless people who derive pleasure in wielding limitless power and control over others. And even though I cannot do that on the scale I wish I could, I can and will do it here and in other forums.

I have known the grief of pregnancy loss, infertility, and infant loss. I also know what it’s like to step into the public arena and share your story only to face ridicule and scorn. The admiration I have for the women and men who have made the decision to share their stories is beyond words. I hope you will join me in amplifying their voices and sharing their stories so we can change these laws.

-Rachel