Tag: texas abortion ban
Paxton and Talarico

Talarico Backs Abortion Rights, While Paxton Would Rather Let Women Die

This story first appeared in Courier Texas

On November 3, Texas voters will weigh questions about the future of reproductive healthcare as they decide whether to send Republican Attorney General Ken Paxton or Democratic State Rep. James Talarico to the U.S. Senate.

The candidates are stark opposites when it comes to abortion, with Paxton notably celebrating the end of Roe v. Wade in 2022 and threatening to impose legal ramifications on medical providers who perform abortions on women facing life-threatening conditions. Talarico has emphasized his stance against what he calls “extreme” abortion bans and outlined steps he would take to reduce Texas’ maternal mortality rates.

Here’s where each candidate stands on reproductive healthcare issues in Texas.

Where do Talarico and Paxton stand on Texas’ abortion ban?

Paxton has been outspoken about his anti-abortion stance.

In the aftermath of the Dobbs decision that repealed Roe v. Wade, Paxton called previous federally protected abortion rights “unconstitutional and unconscionable.” He expressed support for Texas’ highly restrictive abortion ban and said he looked forward to “defending the pro-life laws of Texas and the lives of all unborn children moving forward.”

In 2022, Paxton again defended Texas’ ban, which outlaws the procedure from conception, making exceptions only in exceedingly rare circumstances. When the Biden administration asserted that the EMTALA law, which requires hospitals nationwide to provide emergency care to every patient, also included performing health-saving abortions, Paxton pushed back, claiming that its directive would “transform every emergency room in the country into a walk-in abortion clinic.”

The Fifth Circuit Court of Appeals ruled that Texas’ abortion restrictions take precedence over EMTALA, even when an abortion is necessary to stabilize a patient experiencing a medical emergency.

Talarico, in contrast, said the state’s existing abortion restrictions have removed autonomy from women and their healthcare providers.

“I don’t believe that’s a place for the government. I don’t believe that’s a place for the state,” he said of abortion restrictions. “And that’s a belief I hold not despite my [Christian] faith, but because of my faith.”

Voters who consider themselves “pro-life” should be bothered by the risks associated with Texas’ ban, Talarico argued, particularly when it comes to the state’s very narrow scope of exceptions for extreme medical emergencies.

“They should be deeply disturbed by this abortion ban in Texas because we have women who are literally dying in emergency room parking lots because doctors are too afraid to provide the healthcare they need,” he said during an interview with The Jamie Kern Lima Show.

Dallas mom Lauren Miller had already been hospitalized twice due to a rare pregnancy side effect when she had to flee Texas to get a complex procedure to save one of the twins she was carrying. Early in her pregnancy she and her husband had learned that one of their twins suffered from Trisomy 18, a genetic condition that would lead to death in Miller’s uterus or very shortly after birth. The fetus only had half a brain, major heart issues, and other serious abnormalities.

“The risk of miscarriage with a Trisomy 18 baby is so severe that I could have lost both babies,” Miller told Courier Texas in a 2025 interview.

Miller needed a single fetal abortion to save the healthy twin. While she was already deeply ill from hyperemesis gravidarum, Miller had to board a plane and fly to Colorado for a safe procedure.

“I needed an abortion of an obviously unviable twin in order to protect the life of a viable twin. I was heading towards organ failure but apparently I wasn’t dead enough,” Miller recently told Courier Texas. “The decision between Ken Paxton and James Talarico comes down to a simple question: If you believe that a politician should make life or death medical decisions for you and your kids, by all means vote for Ken Paxton. If you believe you and your doctor know your medical needs better than a politician, vote for James Talarico.”

Talarico’s legislative record supports his stance of supporting women’s healthcare rights.

In 2022, Talarico filed HB 819, which would repeal several pre-Roe v. Wade restrictions on abortion, including the current “trigger ban” and a 1925 abortion ban that could open the door to women facing criminal prosecution for having an abortion. The proposal was advanced to the House State Affairs Committee in 2023, but failed to proceed.

How would each candidate handle medical exceptions to the ban?

When Amanda Zurawski, who almost died of sepsis when her water broke at 18 weeks of pregnancy, led a case up to the Texas Supreme Court, Ken Paxton fought the women every step of the way. The women involved in the suit sought to clarify the legal medical exceptions to Texas’s abortion ban, including asking that pregnant women carrying fetuses with fatal fetal anomalies be allowed to have legal abortions in the state.

“To me, the choice is incredibly obvious. It’s night and day,” Zurawski told Courier Texas. “I’ve met James (Talarico) as a state legislator and he’s been supportive of my work and of the other women who were plaintiffs. He apologized for the pain and suffering that I and the other women went through as a result of the abortion ban.”

When the Texas Supreme Court refused to clarify medical exceptions to the state’s abortion bans, as the women requested, Paxton celebrated the ruling.

“Ken Paxton has made life worse for us, and his legal team insisted in our court case that we weren’t even harmed by the abortion ban,” Zurawski said. “I also don’t trust that Ken Paxton will support access for Texas women to IVF—something that I need to have a family now.

“I fear that if Ken Paxton becomes our state's senator, that the amount of damage that he will do to 49 other states will know no bounds.”

When mom Kate Cox received a judge’s permission to abort her fetus after the diagnosis of a fatal fetal anomaly, Paxton immediately threatened to criminally prosecute and civilly sue her OBGYN, Dr. Damla Karsan, as well as any hospital which provided the abortion.

“Ken Paxton threatened to come after me if I had performed the abortion. He threatened me with 99 years in jail, a $100,000 fine and the loss of my medical license,” Karsan told Courier Texas.

Cox was already gravely ill from the effects of carrying a fetus with Trisomy 18, and she feared losing her fertility from the doomed pregnancy.

“If she was forced to continue the pregnancy in Texas, she would have had to undergo a C-section, which is major surgery in order to have a baby that wouldn’t survive,” Karsan said. “She already had two babies by C-section and she really wants to have a third child, but every C-section is more dangerous.”

After Paxton’s threat, Cox fled to a state where abortion was legal and underwent the procedure.

“Ken Paxton doesn’t care if Texas women die as a result of the abortion ban,” Karsan said. “His message to women is that you are only valued for your ability to bear children—but women in Texas are now afraid to start a family. I hear that from patients all the time. The ban has had a chilling effect on having children.”

Talarico has repeatedly pushed back on Texas’ ultra-strict abortion ban, calling out GOP leaders for their opposition to exceptions even in the most complex cases.

A spokesperson for Talarico emphasized Talarico’s opposition to Paxton on the issue of abortion exceptions, telling Courier Texas, “Ken Paxton has consistently pushed to criminalize women’s healthcare and put politicians in the middle of decisions that should be left to Texas women, their doctors, and their faith. Paxton defended and enforced the most extreme abortion ban in the entire country, with no exceptions for rape or incest.”

Talarico was a co-sponsor for SB 31, The Life of The Mother Act, which permits exceptions to the state’s near-absolute abortion ban by allowing doctors to intervene before a pregnant patient dies or suffers very serious physical impairment when medical criteria for the law are met.

What would they do about Texas’ maternal mortality rate?

Texas’ maternal mortality rate has consistently measured higher than the national average—and women of color face the starkest consequences. From 2016-2020, 83 Black women died per 100,000 live births in Harris County, Texas—the highest rate in the US.

In September 2026, the family of Tierra Walker, a Black woman who died after developing preeclampsia during pregnancy, sued Paxton and other defendants. They alleged that Texas’ abortion restrictions and the type of care she received contributed to her death, ProPublica reported.

Paxton has made no public comment on Walker’s death. His campaign website does not mention maternal health, but states he “will work alongside President Trump to Make America Healthy Again.”

Talarico has spoken publicly about maternal mortality, proposing specific reduction measures like insurance coverage for doulas and midwives and supporting the Healthy Start program, whose stated mission is “to improve the health and well-being of women, infants, and families in Dallas County by providing comprehensive prenatal, maternal, postpartum, and infant care.”

A statement on Talarico’s campaign website says he hopes to “end maternal care deserts, improve data collection, provider training, and investment in maternal health research, extend eligibility for the Special Supplemental Nutrition Program for Women, Infants, and Children (WIC)” and “guarantee all new mothers can take time off work to tend to their health.

Dr. Austin Dennard is a Dallas OB-GYN and mother who learned early in her third pregnancy that the fetus had anancephaly—a condition not compatible with survival. Despite wanting the pregnancy, she and her husband traveled out of state for an abortion.

“I have spent my entire adult life training to care for women in the moments when minutes matter,” Dennard told Courier Texas. “OB-GYNs wake up in the middle of the night to operate on ruptured ectopic pregnancies. We run toward hemorrhages. We deliver babies in emergencies, perform life-saving surgery with little warning and make extraordinarily complicated decisions under enormous pressure. We train for years to know what to do when a woman’s life is suddenly in our hands.

“So I have very little patience for politicians who have never taken care of a patient, never stood in an operating room at 2 a.m., never managed an obstetric hemorrhage, and never had to make a split-second decision to save a woman’s life, telling us how to practice medicine.”

Dennard said Paxton has championed a version of government in which politicians and prosecutors can second-guess doctors and women during extraordinarily complex medical circumstances.

“We have seen the consequences of that approach in Texas: fear, confusion, delayed care and physicians forced to consider the legal consequences of treatment while standing at a patient’s bedside.”

She said Talarico brings a different approach to governance in Texas.

“James Talarico offers something fundamentally different: trust. Trust women to know their own lives. Trust physicians who have devoted theirs to caring for them. And understand that bodily autonomy isn’t some abstract political argument. It is a fundamental freedom.

“OBYNs don’t need politicians practicing medicine from the Capitol. We need them to get out of the exam room and let us do the jobs we sacrificed so much of our lives to learn how to do.”

Bonnie Fuller is the former CEO and editor-in-chief of HollywoodLife.com and former editor-in-chief of Glamour, Cosmopolitan, Marie Claire, and USWeekly. Follow her substack, Bonnie Fuller: Your Body Your Choice. from which this is reprinted with permission.

Reprinted with permission from American Journal News

Ken Paxton

How Ken Paxton Expanded His Anti-Abortion Crusade Far Beyond Texas

Early in his tenure as Texas attorney general, Ken Paxton issued a statement commemorating what he believed was a national tragedy.

“It’s impossible to fill the void of more than 50 million missing human beings,” he said in 2016. He was marking the 43rd anniversary of Roe v. Wade, the Supreme Court ruling that protected abortion rights — and had long stood in the way of efforts to ban terminations in early pregnancy, when most abortions occur.

Paxton spent the years that followed testing Roe’s limits and ultimately prevailed where others had failed: In 2021, he defended a near-total abortion ban that Texas legislators had designed to evade conventional legal challenges. The U.S. Supreme Court allowed it to take effect while Roe remained in force.

After the justices overturned Roe the following year, Paxton kept pushing, pursuing new ways to extend the reach of Texas’ restrictions. He prevailed against the Biden administration, picked fights with states that protect abortion access and pioneered strategies that his peers later adopted or expanded.

While Paxton’s tenure as attorney general has drawn criticism from across the political spectrum for his personal scandals and alleged misuse of the office, detractors and allies alike agree that his signal achievement as the state’s top legal official has been advancing restrictions on abortion.

A close look at his record shows a clear pattern in his successes: He relentlessly tests the limits of the law and employs novel legal strategies to advance his goals.

Paxton’s national role as an anti-abortion warrior would change if he wins his U.S. Senate race. As Texas attorney general, he has been able to act largely on his own authority. If he prevails in November, he would become one of 100 senators in a chamber where most legislation needs 60 votes to overcome a filibuster.

But allies who have witnessed his victories see an opening.

“He’ll have the ability to use some of the laws that he’s defended in Texas as influence to draft legislation in the U.S. Senate,” said Mary Elizabeth Castle, director of government relations at Texas Values, a Christian advocacy group that supports a national abortion ban.

Legal experts and advocates on both sides expect he could join colleagues who are pressuring the Food and Drug Administration to revoke its approval of the abortion drug mifepristone.

Anti-abortion activists at the state and federal level are also trying to secure legal rights for fetuses, which could have implications for reproductive care like birth control and in vitro fertilization. Paxton, who has called himself a strong supporter of IVF, recently said he was open to restrictions intended to prevent the loss of fertilized eggs.

His litigation has also raised questions that experts expect the Supreme Court to confront, including whether a federal law, which mandates hospitals provide stabilizing care to patients having an emergency, overrides state abortion bans; whether to treat a fetus as a separate patient that has its own emergency care rights; and how far states can go in pursuing out-of-state doctors who prescribe abortion medication to patients in states where it’s banned.

During the current race, abortion has played a far smaller role than questions about Paxton’s ethics. His Democratic opponent, James Talarico, has said that he supports restoring a federal right to abortion and that his Christian faith calls for an end to “extreme” laws that Paxton has defended and that have forced women to flee the state for emergency abortion care.

Lately, Paxton has said little about abortion — an issue on which he has defended restrictions more stringent than many Texans say they want.

But those who have watched Paxton extend the reach of Texas law beyond its borders are paying close attention to his Senate bid.

Dr. Jennifer Villavicencio, an abortion provider, said she has felt compelled to move her family twice to states with strong laws shielding doctors from out-of-state litigation, partly out of concern that Paxton is creating a blueprint for targeting providers like her.

“It’s very disheartening and scary to think that it’s maybe coming to the U.S. Senate,” she said.

Paxton successfully defended a near-total abortion ban before Roe v. Wade was struck down.

When Paxton became Texas attorney general in 2015, there was no ambiguity about where he stood on abortion.

Raised by an anti-abortion activist, he married his sweetheart from a Christian college, who spoke proudly about the fact that she was adopted, saying her birth mother “chose life.” She campaigned for Paxton, but he had his own bona fides. A law he’d co-sponsored as a state senator banned almost all abortions after 20 weeks.

Similar 20-week bans had taken root across the country as decades of court rulings chipped away at Roe, but no state had managed to enforce a ban as early as six weeks. More than a dozen tried, passing laws that prohibited abortion when cardiac activity could be detected. One after another, they were blocked by judges.

Then, in 2021, a Texas lawyer named Jonathan Mitchell worked with legislators to craft a law that would withstand similar challenges. Instead of having state officials enforce their “heartbeat law,” the new act, referred to as Senate Bill 8, allowed citizens to sue physicians they suspected were providing abortions. The law offered up to $10,000 if they won.

When abortion providers and President Joe Biden’s administration separately challenged the law in federal court, Paxton’s office argued that state officials couldn’t be ordered to stop enforcing it because they had no power to do so in the first place. Only private citizens could.

“Because the executive officials are expressly prohibited from enforcing SB 8,” his office wrote to the Supreme Court, “there is nothing for a federal court to enjoin.”

The Supreme Court agreed that Paxton couldn’t be sued because “the petitioners have not identified any enforcement authority the attorney general possesses in connection with S. B. 8 that a federal court might enjoin him from exercising.”

The law remained in effect, becoming the first enforceable six-week ban under Roe.

Legislators in Idaho and Oklahoma subsequently passed similar laws.

For Dr. Sam Dickman, who worked at a San Antonio Planned Parenthood, the implications were clear: “I was going to need to either entirely change the type of medicine I was providing or leave the state,” he said. He opted for the latter, moving to Montana, where abortion is legal until viability, or roughly 24 weeks.

Days after the Texas ban took effect, Josseli Barnica arrived at a Houston hospital in the midst of a miscarriage. She was 17 weeks pregnant and her fetus’s head was pressed up against her dilated cervix. Because the situation put her at high risk of developing an infection, medical experts said doctors should have offered to speed up delivery or empty her uterus; the fetus was not viable, and losing the pregnancy was inevitable.

But the fetus’s heart was still beating.

Barnica relayed to her husband what she said her medical providers had told her: “They had to wait until there was no heartbeat,” he told ProPublica in Spanish. “It would be a crime to give her an abortion.”

For 40 hours, Barnica waited, her uterus exposed to bacteria.

She died days later of sepsis. Medical experts told ProPublica her doctors did not follow the proper standard of care and that Barnica’s death was preventable.

In a statement, HCA Healthcare, the hospital chain that treated her, said “our responsibility is to be in compliance with applicable state and federal laws and regulations” and said that physicians exercise their independent judgment.

Paxton blocked federal guidance for emergency abortion care, doing harm far beyond Texas

When the Supreme Court overturned the constitutional right to abortion on June 24, 2022, Paxton dismissed his staff at noon to celebrate. He would later designate the date as a paid office holiday, Sanctity of Life Day.

The Texas Legislature had prepared for the occasion, passing a law that went into effect shortly after the overturning of Roe. The ban threatened doctors with up to 99 years in prison if they performed an abortion. But soon came what Paxton framed as a federal attempt to thwart the state law.

The Biden administration issued a memo to doctors in states with abortion bans saying that a federal emergency care law protected their medical judgment, “regardless of the restrictions in the state.”

The federal Health and Human Services secretary at the time said doctors had an obligation to follow the Emergency Medical Treatment and Active Labor Act, better known as EMTALA. The law requires hospitals that accept federal funding to screen and stabilize every patient who arrives.

For those with complications such as severe preeclampsia, a potentially fatal, pregnancy-related blood pressure disorder, stabilizing a patient might require performing an abortion, even if the state forbids it, the guidance said. “The physician must provide that treatment,” it said, bolding the word “must.”

Paxton sued, accusing the administration of an attempt to use federal law “to transform every emergency room in the country into a walk-in abortion clinic.”

He argued EMTALA was created to make sure hospitals didn’t dump uninsured patients back on the street without treatment, not to override state laws. He took the argument a step further, suggesting that under EMTALA, doctors might need to consider “the life of the unborn child.”

The argument was novel, six legal experts told ProPublica.

“He’s basically suing the federal government to protect Texas’ right to force pregnant women to not get abortions, even when their health is threatened,” said Greer Donley, a law professor at the University of Pittsburgh. “I remember thinking, ‘Wow, that’s radical.’”

Medical groups warned patients would die.

But a federal judge sided with Paxton that August, and the 5th U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals affirmed the decision in January 2024.

The ruling did more than keep the administration from enforcing its EMTALA interpretation in Texas.

It barred the federal government from pursuing cases against members of two anti-abortion medical organizations that had joined Paxton’s suit as plaintiffs, the American Association of Pro-Life Obstetricians and Gynecologists and the Christian Medical & Dental Associations. This effectively exempted them from having to follow the federal guidance, regardless of where they worked.

It also served as immediate litigation fodder for another state fighting to enforce its own abortion ban.

Idaho had not had the same success in court as Texas. After the Biden administration sued, arguing the state’s ban conflicted with EMTALA, Idaho lost in lower and appellate courts, leaving its ban effectively frozen in emergency cases, with doctors instructed to follow the federal guidance.

But Paxton’s 5th Circuit win on Jan. 2, 2024, gave Idaho’s ban a lifeline. The ruling conflicted with the 9th Circuit’s decision in Idaho, creating the kind of disagreement between federal appeals courts that the Supreme Court often steps in to resolve.

The following day, attorneys representing Idaho asked the high court to do just that, saying Paxton’s success showed they were “likely to prevail.” In the meantime, they asked the court to unfreeze the ban.

On Jan. 5, the Supreme Court allowed Idaho to fully enforce its ban while the case proceeded.

Emergency doctors began hesitating over when they could legally provide abortions, Dr. Jim Souza, chief physician at St. Luke’s Health System, said on a press call at the time, according to NPR. “Is she septic enough for me to do this abortion and not risk going to jail and losing my license?”

In the three months that followed, St. Luke’s, the state’s largest hospital system, said it had to airlift six patients out of the state for abortions.

In Texas, ProPublica has documented the consequences for women experiencing pregnancy emergencies.

When Tierra Walker sought care later that year in San Antonio, she developed preeclampsia and ultimately died from it, ProPublica previously reported. None of the 90 physicians involved in her care offered her the option of terminating her pregnancy, even after she asked if doing so might keep her safe.

Her family sued Paxton in September, along with state medical officials and several healthcare providers, alleging that Texas’ abortion restrictions and the care Walker received led to her death. Paxton has not responded to the suit and did not respond to a request seeking comment.

ProPublica has identified at least two other pregnant Texas women who died without what experts said was appropriate emergency care. Paxton has not publicly commented on any of their deaths and did not respond to ProPublica’s questions about them. Our analysis also found worsening outcomes across the state for patients experiencing pregnancy complications.

The reach of Paxton’s legal victory may not end there.

The Supreme Court still hasn’t resolved the conflict between the circuit rulings. It declined to do so in the Idaho case, and after President Donald Trump took office, his administration dropped the suit and rescinded the EMTALA guidance.

But legal experts told ProPublica the Supreme Court has yet to resolve core questions that Paxton’s litigation raised: whether EMTALA preempts state abortion laws and whether a fetus also has a right to emergency treatment that could conflict with the mother’s interests in cases where her health is at risk.

To guard against future rulings, a reproductive rights advocacy group called All* Above All is pushing state-level legislation to safeguard emergency care. “We’re seeing the chaos right now and the confusion,” said its president, Nourbese Flint.

Paxton tested expansive new ways to pursue abortion providers. Other states are following his lead.

On December 7, 2023, a state judge in Austin issued a ruling that Paxton immediately moved to stop.

A 31-year-old mother named Kate Cox wanted permission to get an abortion. She was 20 weeks pregnant and carrying a fetus diagnosed with trisomy 18, a genetic condition that kills the vast majority of babies born with it.

Texas doesn’t allow abortions for fatal fetal anomalies, but Cox’s doctor argued that if she was forced to give birth, it could imperil her ability to get pregnant again. It was also medically risky: Cox had already had two children by cesarean section, and the chances of complications increase with each procedure.

The day a Travis County district court judge granted her request, Paxton took a step legal experts told ProPublica they had not seen another state attorney general take:

He sent letters to three hospitals where Cox’s doctor had admitting privileges, threatening legal action if the doctor performed the abortion a judge said she could have. The court order, he wrote, did not insulate hospitals, doctors, or anyone else from civil and criminal liability for violating Texas’ abortion laws.

At the same time, he appealed the case to the Texas Supreme Court, saying that Cox did not face the kind of threat to her life that fell under the law’s exception. If legislators had wanted to write an exception for fatal fetal anomalies, he said, they would have done so.

“The Texas Legislature did not intend for courts to become revolving doors of permission slips to obtain abortions,” he said.

The Texas Supreme Court agreed with Paxton and reversed the lower court’s ruling. By that time, Cox had sought an abortion out of state.

“It was incredibly scary,” Cox told ProPublica. “We saw in my case that Texas will go after doctors.”

Paxton was also the first — and, so far, the only — attorney general to criminally prosecute a provider in his state for violating an abortion ban.

According to court documents, investigators got an anonymous tip alleging that abortions were being performed at a medical clinic that catered to low-income, Spanish-speaking patients, managed by Maria Rojas, a licensed midwife.

Rojas was arrested and charged with practicing medicine without a license and violating the state’s abortion ban. Paxton also moved to temporarily shut down the clinic and others she ran while the case progressed through court. Months after her arrest, Paxton announced he had arrested and indicted eight other clinic staffers for practicing medicine without a license.

Rojas has pleaded not guilty to the charges. Her attorneys have accused Paxton’s office of a shoddy investigation and argued that at least one case prosecutors were treating as an abortion was actually the management of a patient’s miscarriage.

A trial has not yet been scheduled, but an appeals court this summer overturned the order shuttering the clinics, finding the state had not presented sufficient admissible evidence to justify a temporary injunction. Paxton said he is appealing the ruling. The court did not rule on whether Rojas had actually performed illegal abortions.

Paxton has not stopped at the state border in his pursuit of doctors.

In December 2024, he sued Dr. Margaret Carpenter, a New York-based physician, accusing her of violating multiple Texas laws when she treated a patient via telehealth who lived in Plano, a suburb north of Dallas, and prescribed her abortion medication.

Because the patient was based in Texas, he argued, Carpenter was subject to laws there that banned abortion and required a license to practice in the state.

Carpenter didn’t respond to the suit, so Paxton won by default. But Texas was unable to collect on more than $100,000 in civil fines and court fees that resulted; a New York county clerk refused to register the judgment, invoking a “shield law” that protects providers of abortion care that is legal in New York from certain out-of-state investigations, prosecutions and judgments. At least 22 states have passed shield laws since Roe was overturned, and New York’s is among the strongest. Carpenter did not respond to a request seeking comment and has not publicly responded to the case.

A New York judge dismissed Paxton’s case seeking to enforce the judgment, but Paxton didn’t give up, filing two more civil suits this year against practitioners and organizations in Delaware and California that mail abortion medication to Texas.

Three other state attorneys general have now expanded on the strategy. Last month, Louisiana Attorney General Liz Murrill — who brought criminal charges against Carpenter after Paxton sued her (and has faced similar obstacles in New York) — joined the attorneys general of Arkansas and Alabama in filing a sweeping federal civil suit against out-of-state providers of abortion pills. The case names some of the same providers Paxton pursued; they have challenged the suits. The three attorneys general filed a separate action directly with the Supreme Court asking it to strike down shield laws in New York, Massachusetts and California.

Paxton has moved beyond doctors to target other entities that help patients obtain abortions. Mary Ziegler, an abortion historian and professor of law at University of California, Davis, called him “an innovator in terms of broadening the network of people who were seen as culprits or aiders or abettors.”

He sent cease-and-desist letters to organizations that ship abortion medication into Texas; the attorney general of Alabama subsequently used similar tactics. And Paxton sued cities in his state to stop them from disbursing funds to help women travel for abortions — a move the Legislature followed with a law banning such funding.

Following his legal victory against the city of San Antonio early this year, in which it was forced to end the $100,000 program, Paxton made a vow:

“I will always do everything in my power to prevent radicals from manipulating the system to murder innocent babies.”

Reprinted with permission from ProPublica

Hope Negumezi with late wife Porsha and their sons

Devastated Dad Tells How Texas Abortion Ban Killed Young Mother Of His Boys

Texas dad Hope Negumezi shared with special correspondent Bonnie Fuller the tragic story of how his pregnant wife Porsha bled to death while waiting in agony for hours for medical care in Texas. Trigger warning for our readers: This story contains detailed descriptions of Porsha’s miscarriage and death in the hospital.

How the hell did my pregnant wife, Porsha, come to the hospital for help with a miscarriage and just a few hours later, leave in a body bag?

How was that possible?

That is what I couldn’t understand after my wife died suddenly in a Texas hospital while she hemorrhaged after a miscarriage. Why did this nightmare happen?

I learned later that same day in 2023 that her death was totally preventable. But I wouldn’t know for another year that my wife likely would be alive today if it hadn’t been for the Texas state Legislature and governor passing a law banning abortion.

Porsha and I were aware of the Texas abortion ban, which went into effect after Roe v. Wade was overturned by the US Supreme Court. But when she became pregnant with our third child, neither of us realized that it could affect the medical treatment of women having pregnancy complications.

Porsha was just 11 weeks pregnant with our third child and we were very excited. We had two young sons, 3 and 5, and wanted to have a large family, so we planned to keep on going.

It was June and the boys had just finished their school year. We decided to celebrate by taking a couple of days off and driving from our home in Houston to a water park called Kalahari, just outside of Austin.

Porsha had made all the arrangements for the vacation. She was always in charge of that. We had been married for six years but had been together since we met at Lamar University in Beaumont, Texas, in 2007.

Our first meeting was at my 21st birthday party. I had told my friends to bring some of their friends to the party and I spotted Porsha from across the room when she first walked in the door.

I had never met her before, but as soon as I saw her, it was like in the movies when everything stops. There seemed to be an aura around her. I went to the bathroom to splash water on my face to sober up and to figure out how I was going to talk to her.

I don’t know how it happened, but I was able to sit by her and we spoke for hours. It was so easy to talk to her. We just connected instantly.

I had never felt that with anyone else. I knew right away that she was “The One.” By January 2008, we were a couple and we had been together ever since.

When we got married, we had two weddings. One was an American white wedding. The other was a traditional Nigerian wedding. I was born here, but my parents both immigrated from Nigeria in the 1970s. Porsha’s family were all from Houston.

I’m an aircraft engineer and Porsha was a finance manager for a charter school in Houston.

She was a great mother. She just loved her boys so much and they loved her, too. They were both mama’s boys and were always hanging around her, which I loved.

She had no complications with those first two pregnancies or the births, even though she had a low platelet issue called chronic idiopathic thrombocytopenic purpura.

[Editor’s Note: Chronic idiopathic thrombocytopenic purpura can cause easy bleeding and difficulty clotting. Porsha also suffered from iron deficiency anemia and had sickle cell trait.]

Porsha’s OB-GYN at the time of her first two pregnancies was aware of her condition and was careful to monitor her.

We didn’t expect that we would have any complications with the third pregnancy. On the day that we left for Austin, though, Porsha noticed some spotting. She called her OB-GYN.

This was a new OB-GYN and Posha hadn’t met her yet. Her old OB-GYN had moved away. Porsha explained to her doctor what was happening. The doctor told her that if the spotting became more frequent, it could be a miscarriage and that she should go to a hospital emergency room.

We were at the water park for two days. On the day that we began the drive home, Porsha’s spotting was becoming heavier.

We were both getting worried. I remember that I reached over and grabbed her hand and she smiled at me. We decided that as soon as we arrived home, Porsha would head immediately to Houston Methodist Sugar Land Hospital.

It was about 10 minutes away in a suburb outside of Houston. It seemed like a very nice hospital and we thought we would get better care there than going downtown.

I would stay with the boys until my mother could get over to babysit and then I would join her.

By the time Porsha got to the hospital at 3:37 p.m., the bleeding had become heavy. After she had been there for about three hours, she went to the bathroom and had a partial miscarriage there. A lot of blood and blood clots came out.

She texted me while I was giving the boys a bath and we were both heartbroken. I learned later after she died that she had been pregnant with a daughter. We had both wanted a girl so much.

Nevertheless, I felt that Porsha was in good hands at the hospital. After all, women have miscarriages. It happens and doctors are trained to handle women with miscarriages. This wasn’t a unique situation.

Porsha was taken to get an ultrasound, which confirmed that she had lost the baby. There was no heartbeat.

But she had lost so much blood that the ER doctor ordered a blood transfusion for her. The nurse was about to give her a blood transfusion when I arrived.

We were talking. She said that she was cold and I was leaning over to hug her and warm her up when she started to slur her words and suddenly she lost consciousness.

It was really scary.

Luckily, the nurse caught the situation and she came rushing in and began administering the transfusion.

She told me to try and keep Porsha conscious. I was telling her, “Babe, stay with me. Stay with me.”

She regained consciousness but she still hadn’t seen a hospital OB-GYN—just the ER doctor—even though she’d been there for hours. She was still passing blood clots as big as grapefruits.

Porsha doesn’t like hospitals and the whole time she was there that afternoon and evening, she was worried and scared. I kept reassuring her, “It’s going to be over and we’ll get out of here and be back home with our kids.”

I was trying to keep her spirits up. We called my mom, who trained as a doctor in the Dominican Republic and had practiced there before she moved to the US. Since she’s been here, she’s worked as a clinical research associate, focusing on cancer research.

She was in Dallas because one of my two sisters—who are both nurses—had just given birth there.

My mother told us that Porsha needed a minor and common procedure called a D&C (dilation and curettage) in order to clean out her uterus by removing all the fetal tissue which remained in it after the partial miscarriage.

Editor’s Note: Without a D&C, the uterus may keep trying to expel material in it by contracting and bleeding.

It was after speaking to my mother that the hospital OB-GYN, Dr. Andrew Ryan Davis, finally showed up and did his medical evaluation. It sounded like he knew what he was talking about.

He said, “It is our routine to first have Porsha take the drug misoprostol and see if that helps to pass the remaining fetal matter and blood clots. If that doesn’t work, then we can do a D&C.”

[Editor’s Note: More than a dozen doctors who reviewed Porsha’s case for the news site ProPublica concluded that misoprostol can be an effective drug to end early, low-risk miscarriage, but was inappropriate for Negumezi, who had been bleeding heavily and suffered from a low platelet condition. The Texas Medical Board, which reviewed Porsha’s case, confirmed that she should have been given a D&C immediately because of the volume of blood she was losing.]

Even though what Dr. Davis said conflicted with my mom’s advice, Porsha and I trusted him. He was the staff OB-GYN and he said that this was the hospital’s routine procedure. We accepted that Porsha’s miscarriage was “routine” and he gave her the drug.

He also told us that he was going to move Porsha out of the ER and to a section of the hospital where he could reach her more quickly. But the ER nurse who had been taking care of Porsha came to talk with us and she said, “If you don’t feel right about the move, then say something.”

Even though I wasn’t sure that leaving the ER was the right move, we again decided to follow the doctor’s advice. But on the way up to the room, Porsha said that her chest was hurting.

Her new nurse treated her complaint like it was something normal and brought her Tylenol. However, over the next couple of hours, Porsha complained another four times that her chest hurt.

I began to get more and more upset because no one was doing anything. The doctor didn’t come to check on her and finally, after Porsha complained a fifth time, the nurse brought her morphine for the pain.

Editor’s Note: Chest pain in Porsha’s condition was caused by her heart not receiving enough oxygen from her blood due to her severe blood loss, according to a consultation with a Texas OB-GYN, who read about Porsha’s case.

Porsha was also incredibly thirsty because she wasn’t supposed to drink since the misoprostol hadn’t fully dissolved on her tongue.

I remember that we were having a conversation about how she couldn’t wait to get out of the hospital to see the boys and get something to eat when she just started gasping for air.

I grabbed the hospital telephone and screamed to the nurse, “Something’s wrong with my wife, she can’t breathe!” It was about 1:30 A.M.

I remember that the nurse came in and she began calling “Code Blue” or something like that.

More people came into her room, but there didn’t seem to be any sense of urgency like on TV shows about medical emergencies when everyone’s rushing to try to save someone’s life.

I was pushed aside but I was telling Porsha, “Come on babe, you’re going to be alright. Come on, Babe. This is not going to be our ending. You’re going to make it.”

The medical team injected her with something, they were doing CPR and they gave her heart electric shocks several times from defibrillator paddles.

I was crying, I was shouting, I was praying. I felt like I was having an out-of-body experience.

There was a female doctor and she pulled me out of the room and told me to call Porsha’s mom, which I did.

Her mother must have heard the panic in my voice. I told her that she needed to get to the hospital now. She lived close by and she and Porsha’s stepdad got there really quickly.

The ER doctor that had seen Porsha earlier arrived and I could hear him say, “Let’s do this and then that" but there was no urgency in his voice. I went back into Porsha’s room and I heard him say, “Anybody have any ideas?”

I was like, what?

Then he told me, “We’re not seeing or hearing any heartbeat.”

It felt to me like he was trying to get my OK for them to stop trying to revive her. But I said, “You got to do more. You got to try.” I just could not accept that he was trying to tell me that Porsha had died.

The OB-GYN finally showed up and that’s when the staff announced that Porsha was deceased. It was 2 a.m. Porsha had arrived there at about 3:30 p.m. in the afternoon. It had been about 10 hours since she had first walked into the hospital alive and in need of help for a miscarriage.

Despite the medical team announcing that she had died, I kept thinking that Porsha would come back. I wanted her to wake up so bad. I took her hand and it was cold but I felt like I could warm her up. Porsha always called me “the heater.”

She used to get cold really quickly and would come to me to just warm her. But now, she stayed cold.

Her mom had gotten in the bed with her and was crying.

I didn’t leave the hospital until the sun was coming up. I waited until the coroner came to get her body to do an autopsy. I walked with her as he rolled her away. Her cause of death was vaginal hemorrhage.

Then I just jumped in my car and left.

I was scared of what would happen to me. I felt so broken. I wasn’t myself and I didn’t want my sons to see how upset I was. I was thinking that I wanted to get them dressed and dropped off at their summer camp so I could get my state of mind back while they had a normal day.

I was fighting back tears as I got them dressed and they kept asking, “Where’s mommy?” I told them that she was still at the hospital.

The moment that I got them into their camp, which was at the local school, I broke down. The principal and the assistant principal came out and I told them what happened.

The pain damn near killed me. It hurt so much.

I realized that Porsha’s death was preventable later that day. A lot of my mom’s friends who are in the medical field came by my house and they all said that she should have been given a D&C, not the misoprostol. They kept repeating, “All they had to do was clean her uterus out.”

One of the guys said, “She already had the miscarriage. It wasn’t an abortion. Why couldn’t they give her a D&C?”

It made me so angry but also made me feel so terrible. How could I not have known that?

I kept going over everything that had happened in my head to figure out what I did wrong. I felt shame. Porsha had needed the emergency D&C.

When I looked back at those hours in the hospital, I felt like there had been so many times that the OB-GYN could have intervened to save her life. But he never came back to see her until after she died.

I didn’t tell my sons that their mommy had died for a couple more days. I didn’t know how to do it. I just remember crying a lot when I finally broke the news to them. What hurt the most was the confused look on their faces.

My older son, who was just five, was trying to understand. But a couple of days later, they were both asking again, “Where’s Mommy?”

When my youngest son, who was three, would see a woman with braids like his mom had been wearing, he would just take off and run to her thinking that was his mom.

Still today, three years later, they say, “I miss Mommy.” They remember her. They remember the trip to the water park.

One of my fears has been letting depression check me out. My sons already lost their mother, so I have to be available to them. I’ve had to summon all my strength to get up every day despite having low energy.

I have to put a smile on my face, wake the boys up and start their morning off great. The single dad thing has been tough, especially as I’ve coped with the grief.

But luckily their grandmothers and aunties live close by and I can take them to them to get lots of hugs and cuddles and extra love.

I didn’t realize that Texas’s abortion ban could be a contributor to Porsha’s death until I was contacted by reporters from the ProPublica news organization, who were researching Porsha’s medical situation for a story, about a year after she died.

Porsha had been upset when Roe v. Wade was overturned. She didn’t like seeing rights taken away from women.

But neither of us thought the Texas abortion ban could ever play a role in her pregnancy or that the treatment she received while miscarrying was being affected by the law.

But once I spoke with the ProPublica journalists, I realized that it creates a lot of gray areas which prevent doctors from doing what they need to do to care for women having pregnancy complications.

On top of that, the punishment for doctors performing an abortion is so great that it could affect their medical decisions.

[Editor’s Note: Doctors in Texas face up to 99 years in prison for performing an abortion that is deemed medically unnecessary, in addition to the loss of their medical license.]

Connecting those dots and relating them to Porsha and how her care was put in jeopardy was just sickening to me.

My belief had always been that laws are here to protect us and make life better for us. Not kill us.

Bonnie Fuller is the former CEO and editor-in-chief of HollywoodLife.com and former editor-in-chief of Glamour, Cosmopolitan, Marie Claire, and USWeekly. Follow her substack, Bonnie Fuller: Your Body Your Choice. from which this is reprinted with permission.

Reprinted with permission from Courier Texas

In Her Own Words: Why This Doctor Fled Texas To Help Women In Virginia

In Her Own Words: Why This Doctor Fled Texas To Help Women In Virginia

Dr. Lou Rubino is just one of many physicians who’ve left Texas as a result of the state’s multiple abortion bans—laws that prevent doctors from treating pregnant women with not just abortion care, but life-saving emergency care. She’s now practicing in Virginia.

Dr. Rubino told her story to writer Bonnie Fuller for Dogwood.

I remember very clearly the moment I knew I was done. I could no longer practice as a women’s health care doctor in Texas.

I had a patient, probably 18 or 19 years old. I was doing an ultrasound, and she told me she needed an abortion for her safety. She said, “I’m too young. I don’t feel safe with my partner. I’m scared. I need an abortion.”

When a patient tells me they feel unsafe with a partner, I take that very seriously. Pregnant people are at high risk of harm from abusive partners. It’s a dangerous time. She knew what she needed, and I knew it was wrong for me to say no.

She was very early in her pregnancy, between six and eight weeks. I should have been able to prescribe abortion pills or perform a quick five-minute procedure. Instead, I had to tell her she could not get care in Texas. I explained she’d have to travel nearly nine hours to the nearest clinic.

She cried, and I cried. I told her this was wrong, that her rights were being violated, and that I couldn’t let her believe she was the one at fault. After that, I knew I couldn’t go on. I put down my things, walked out, and decided to leave Texas for good.

I asked myself: Am I the kind of doctor who does the wrong thing?
I’m not. And Texas couldn’t force me to be.

Not long after, my husband and I moved to Virginia, where I now practice.

‘I moved to Austin for something different’

I’m originally from Detroit and went to medical school at Southern Illinois University. I moved to Austin in 2015 for something different, met my husband, and did my residency at UT Southwestern in Dallas.

At first, I didn’t think of abortion as a political issue. But quickly, I realized that without abortion and miscarriage training, I’d be ignoring an essential part of women’s health.

Miscarriages are common—about 15 percent of pregnancies end that way. Abortions are also common—one in four women will have one. To ignore that would mean I wasn’t fully trained.

In Texas, there was no formal abortion training. Instead, I apprenticed with an OB-GYN in Austin and learned to perform medication abortions and procedures up to 18 weeks. I became the main doctor at the Austin Women’s Health Center for several years, and I loved it. Providing a safe abortion can completely change someone’s life.

Then came the bans. After Senate Bill 8 passed in 2021, prohibiting abortions after six weeks, I began making plans to leave. I didn’t want to abandon my patients, but I also knew the state was stripping me of my job and my oath as a physician. When the Supreme Court overturned Roe v. Wade in 2022, Texas’s trigger ban outlawed abortion from conception.

I realized I couldn’t protect my staff while breaking the law. The day I had to turn away that young patient made me understand: By following the law, I was doing the wrong thing medically. I walked out of the clinic for good.

‘We get anti-abortion patients coming in for abortions, too’

I took work in Virginia and eventually helped open Meadow Reproductive Health and Wellness Clinic in McLean, just outside Washington, D.C. I’m now its medical director. We provide abortions up to 15 weeks and hope to expand to 18 when we grow our staff. About 20 percent of our patients come from out of state—often driving through the night from places like Florida, Georgia, or Alabama. Some bring children because they don’t have childcare. We started stocking microwaveable meals because a lot of people can’t afford food while traveling.

Every out-of-state patient has a story of desperation—needing time to gather money, arrange childcare, or escape an abusive partner. Too many people who need abortions aren’t getting them at all.

Now, in Virginia, I can practice the way I was trained. I no longer have to wonder whether my medical advice could land me in court. In Texas, at one point, I even asked myself, “Am I supposed to follow state laws or a tweet from the attorney general?”

I understand at a really fundamental level that the most basic human right is bodily autonomy. Without the right to control your pregnancy, you don’t have it. And without good reproductive health care, you risk your quality of life—or your life itself.

We get “anti-abortion” and deeply religious people coming in for abortions, too. They come to us for the same reasons anyone does: financial hardship, health risks, education, safety. They’re human, too.

I was nervous to tell my conservative grandmother in Tennessee about my work. But when I did, she surprised me. She said: “If someone needs an abortion, I’d want you to be the one doing it. I’m glad you’re doing that.”

Leaving Texas has been a relief. Here in Virginia, I can focus on patients and provide care in the right ways—medically, safely. You see, I took an oath as a doctor and I take it very seriously.

From the editor: How abortion bans are impacting Virginia and its neighbors

Abortion bans in Southern states have compelled expert doctors like Dr. Lou Rubino to relocate to Virginia, where laws allow medical professionals to provide essential reproductive health care. Clinics such as Meadow Reproductive Health and Wellness now serve not only Virginians, but also a growing number of women traveling from states where access is restricted—including Texas. These patients often arrive after long and difficult journeys, seeking safe and legal abortion care that is increasingly unavailable closer to home.

Reprinted with permission from VaDogwood.

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