by MARIE BASS
The approval of medication abortion care—20 years ago on Monday—was supposed to usher in a new era of abortion access in this country, to lessen the political and cultural stigma of abortion, to end the vitriol, quiet the noise, and give women an important new option to end an early pregnancy. This vision has yet to be realized.
Instead, with the passing of Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg and the vacancy on the Supreme Court, the constitutional right to abortion is under greater threat than ever before.
Sept 25, 2020
Abortion has been available throughout Germany since the 1970s but the number of doctors carrying out the procedure is now in decline. Jessica Bateman meets students and young doctors who want to fill the gap.
The woman at the family planning clinic
looked at Teresa Bauer and her friend sternly. "And what are you
studying?" she asked the friend, who had just found out she was pregnant,
and wanted an abortion.
"Cultural studies," she replied.
"Ahhh, so you're living a colourful lifestyle?" came the woman's retort.
Bauer sat still, hiding her rage.
By USHMA D. UPADHYAY
SEPTEMBER 24, 2020
Twenty years ago this month, the Food and Drug Administration approved a medication destined to become known as the abortion pill. Mifepristone, then called RU486, was going to change everything about abortion — it would expand access and remove the stigma.
I remember devouring the news because this little pill was going to give women reproductive autonomy and let them control if and when they have children. At the time, I was just starting my Ph.D. in public health. The news inspired and exhilarated me, and I knew that the abortion pill is what I wanted to focus my career on.
Changes to medical technology will change the politics of the country’s original culture war
Sep 19th 2020 edition
When women used to tell Susan Long (not her real name), a doctor in Washington state, that they wanted to terminate a pregnancy, she would refer them to an abortion clinic. Today, they need not even walk into her office: after an online consultation, she prescribes two pills, which she posts, along with instructions on how to take them several hours apart.
It is difficult to exaggerate the benefit for “innumerable” women of being able to have an abortion at home, without having to arrange a trip to a clinic, she says, describing some of them. The university student living with her conservative parents, hundreds of miles from the nearest abortion clinic. The woman whose violent husband is vehemently pro-life. Single mothers, strapped for cash and child care. Those whose frail health prevents them risking exposure to covid-19 at a doctor’s office.
Published: September 16, 2020
DR TULA KRISHNA GUPTA
In February this year, a 20-year-old unmarried woman was brought to our emergency ward with abdominal pain and rash on her legs and lower abdomen. Her blood pressure was almost unrecordable. It was clear from her appearance that she suffered from disseminated intravascular coagulation, a complication of severe infection. The rashes on her body were, in fact, bleeding underneath her skin.
While examining her it was found that her genital area had many old infected lacerated wounds. The smell of pus was evident despite our N95 masks. An ultrasound test revealed the retained product of conception inside her uterus. These are the tell-tale signs of septic abortion.
Ogungbile Emmanuel Oludotun, University of Ibadan
September 14, 2020
On 11th September 2020, Daily Times, a foremost Nigerian Newspaper reported that the former governor of Sokoto State, Aliyu Wamakko, lost his daughter, Sadiya, who reportedly died during child-birth. Sadiya died at the Usmanu Danfodiyo University Teaching Hospital, Sokoto, on Thursday. It was sad that the 23-year-old lady died in event of complications arising from childbirth. So I wondered even the elite also suffers from maternal mortality? This is 2020 and we are still talking about the high rate of maternal mortality in Nigeria which breeds death of millions of people who should not have died, most especially the first-timers.
Specifically today, we still talk of maternal mortality as a major risk for women of childbearing age in Nigeria. The country’s maternal mortality ratio has always stayed elevated despite efforts to curb maternal deaths.
By: Alyssa Fisher
Aug 23, 2020
Entering her 50th year at Choices Women’s Medical Center, founder Merle Hoffman has witnessed a lot. Imagine launching a reproductive health center providing abortions two years before Roe v. Wade legalized it in 1973.
But it’s the COVID-19 pandemic, she says, that has been “one of the most, most challenging times that we’ve faced, I’ve faced.”
Médecins Sans Frontières
Posted 21 Aug 2020
“If you think about times of crisis—whether it’s disease, displacement, or conflict—women and girls are often disproportionately affected,” says Eva De Plecker, a midwife and head of the Doctors Without Borders/Médecins Sans Frontières (MSF) working group on reproductive health and sexual violence. MSF teams on the ground are seeing that the COVID-19 pandemic is no exception.
“While we are still learning about COVID-19
and how pregnancy may be affected by the virus,” De Plecker says, “experience
from past epidemics such as Ebola has shown that the shutdown of services
unrelated to the outbreak resulted in more deaths than the disease itself.”
I got pregnant when I should have been social distancing. So now I can’t tell my friends or family about the termination
Published on Tue 18 Aug 2020
There are two pink lines. Amid the chaos of this spring – the pandemic, lockdown, looming economic crisis – just one thing is certain: I am pregnant.
I am 36 and, strictly speaking, single. Before lockdown, I had secretly started seeing my ex, Jon, again. It wasn’t perfect, but freed us from pressure to define our relationship to anybody. Then lockdown hit. The arts industry in which I work vanished overnight. I was alone in my tiny flat, depressed, desperately missing my work, friends, family … and Jon. I craved the feel of skin. He believed he had already had Covid-19, and we both lived alone, so surely it couldn’t be so bad if we met up?
by Tegwyn Hughes
Posted on August 17, 2020
This article is the first in a two-part series about Clinic 554 and health care in New Brunswick.
In the Greater Toronto Area, there are nine locations where someone can access abortion services. In the entire province of New Brunswick, there are only four. Come September, that number could shrink to three, worsening the already poor access to abortion care in the province.
Clinic 554, New Brunswick’s only independent clinic that offers abortions—as well as family medicine, trans-inclusive care, and contraception counselling—is set to close permanently at the end of September. Advocates for the Fredericton, N.B. clinic, as well as former patients, are urging the provincial government to save it, but the Progressive Conservative leadership hasn’t budged.