Having to travel for an abortion – scrambling to get an appointment at an overbooked clinic, securing money for transportation, lodging, childcare anchildcare and the procedure itself, getting time off work and flying or driving for hours – has been proven to take a significant toll on patients’ mental health. For many women, crossing state lines to access care amplifies the stigma surrounding abortion. In a 2017 qualitative study, women variously described the experience of forced abortion travel as “nerve-racking”, “so much extra stress”, “a nightmare” and “making you feel like you’re doing something bad”.
More than half of respondents reported mental health consequences. Some had considered or attempted self-induction. In a 2020 study of patients seeking abortions, women who encountered logistical difficulties, including having to travel, were more likely to report symptoms of stress, anxiety and depression.
Every week, the clinic where Marchin works sees patients enduring unimaginable traumas. In early June,
a mother arrived from Texas with her 11-year-old daughter who was more than 20 weeks pregnant as a result of rape. (The Texas abortion ban makes no exceptions for rape or incest.)
“This was a child who maybe just barely got her first period and probably has no idea what’s going on in her body,” Marchin says. On top of helping her daughter cope with the trauma of rape and carrying a pregnancy as a child, the mother, who spoke no English, had to find financial help through an abortion fund, then take time off work and pull her daughter out of school to travel hundreds of miles.