She faced a life-threatening miscarriage. Under Arkansas’ abortion ban, even calls to the governor’s office didn’t help

She faced a life-threatening miscarriage. Under Arkansas’ abortion ban, even calls to the governor’s office didn’t help

EDITOR’S NOTE

She faced a life threatening miscarriage – This story was originally published by ProPublica, a nonprofit investigative newsroom. Sign up for their latest reports as they are released.

On the morning of September 16, 2024, Emily Waldorf’s preschooler discovered her collapsed on the bathroom floor. The child, comforting her mother, whispered, “I can be your pillow, mommy,” as she nestled into Waldorf’s neck. At 17 weeks pregnant, Waldorf had felt an unusual pressure during a shower, like a balloon swelling in her vagina, and was now bleeding heavily. Her daughter’s words, though tender, underscored the gravity of the moment. The couple, Emily and her husband Justin, swiftly took their daughter to her grandparents’ home and rushed to Washington Regional Hospital in Fayetteville, Arkansas, where Waldorf worked as an acute care physical therapist.

“Your body is about to miscarry,” the doctor said, gesturing to an ultrasound image. The screen displayed an hourglass shape: Waldorf’s amniotic sac was funneling into her dilated cervix, and a tiny foot peeked out. The medical team explained that the longer her cervix stayed open, the greater the risk of a severe infection. The standard treatment would be to empty her womb immediately, but the doctors hesitated, one expressing regret as he sighed deeply.

The team had to wait until Waldorf’s body naturally expelled the fetus, or she developed a dangerous infection, or the heartbeat stopped. Dr. Erin Large, a physician involved in her care, later described the situation in a journal Waldorf began documenting on her phone and shared with ProPublica. “Our hands are tied behind our backs,” she wrote, “Tell your friends to vote differently.” Waldorf, raised in a Republican household with Baptist roots, grappled with the implications of the law. How could a regulation targeting women who sought abortions now prevent doctors from aiding a woman who was losing her child?

Emily Waldorf had never viewed the law as applicable to her. Her father was a doctor, and the hospital where she had worked for six years had delivered her daughter. Some of the OB-GYN staff even lived near her parents. As a 38-year-old woman with professional ties to the governor, she assumed the situation would be managed with medical expertise. But as she lay in a hospital bed, fearing infection could spread at any moment, she realized the law had shifted its focus. It no longer protected women who chose to terminate pregnancies—it now constrained those who were losing their babies.

A Medical Dilemma

While waiting for the miscarriage to progress, Waldorf followed a nurse’s suggestion to document every detail. Her journal, combined with medical records and interviews, offers a vivid account of the challenges faced by Arkansas’ healthcare providers under the new restrictions. The law, enacted after the Supreme Court overturned Roe v. Wade in 2022, mandated penalties of up to $100,000 in fines and 10 years in prison for violations. It became clear to Waldorf that the doctors’ decisions were not driven by clinical judgment, but by the state’s legal framework.

One of the physicians advised her to return home and outlined the possibilities: At any time, she could experience heavy bleeding or go into labor. It might happen while she was on the toilet or playing with her daughter. When the baby began to slip out, the doctor warned she should not pull too forcefully, lest she damage the infant’s head. She would have to sever the umbilical cord herself, then bring the newborn to the hospital wrapped in towels, the cord dangling between her legs. Waldorf dreaded the image of her daughter, or herself, carrying those memories into their home.

Desperate to stay, she pleaded with the medical staff, who reluctantly agreed. The ordeal unfolded in a small hospital room, with her husband Justin by her side, both overwhelmed by the impending loss of what would have been their second child. The pregnancy had been far enough along to spark excitement in their 4-year-old daughter about nursery decorations, family camping trips, and the role of a big sister. Now, that joy was overshadowed by uncertainty and fear.

The Ripple Effect of the Ban

As the days passed, Waldorf’s case became emblematic of a broader trend. Hospitals, physicians, and lawmakers nationwide were dealing with the consequences of stringent abortion bans, which were leading to preventable complications and even fatalities. Yet, despite the mounting evidence of harm, there was no unified effort among states to shield women from such risks. Each state operated independently, leaving individuals like Waldorf to navigate the crisis alone.

The ban’s impact extended beyond her personal experience. It forced medical professionals to make difficult choices, often prioritizing compliance over patient welfare. Waldorf’s doctors, despite their training and experience, were bound by the law’s severity. The situation highlighted a growing tension between medical ethics and legislative mandates. Even as the stakes rose, the system lacked coordination, ensuring that women remained isolated in their struggles.

In the aftermath, Waldorf’s account serves as a poignant reminder of how abortion bans can redefine the role of healthcare providers. The law, designed to be strict and punitive, created a scenario where doctors were compelled to wait for nature to take its course. For Waldorf, this meant enduring hours of discomfort, knowing that the outcome could be life-altering. The emotional toll was immense, with her family now facing the reality of losing a child without the option of intervention.

Her experience also raises questions about the balance between personal autonomy and state control. While the law was intended to restrict abortion access, it now had the unintended effect of delaying necessary care. Waldorf, who had never considered herself a target of the ban, found herself in a position where her options were limited. The doctors’ advice—wait, observe, and act only when required—underscored the law’s reach into everyday medical decisions.

The story of Emily Waldorf and her family illustrates the human cost of these policies. As she lay in the hospital, bleeding and waiting, the legal framework dictated her fate. The abortion ban, once a tool for empowering women to choose, had transformed into a barrier to timely medical care. Her journey from confusion to understanding, and from hope to despair, captures the essence of the challenge faced by many under similar circumstances. The lesson is clear: the law’s reach is not confined to the act of termination—it shapes the entire experience of pregnancy and childbirth.

Waldorf’s case, while unique, is part of a larger narrative. Across the country, women are confronting similar dilemmas, often with no clear path forward. The lack of state collaboration to address these issues means that each individual must bear the burden of navigating a system that may not always support them. For Waldorf, this meant a prolonged hospital stay, emotional strain, and a deepening realization of the law’s impact on her life and family. Her story remains a testament to the complexity of balancing legal mandates with medical necessity.