National Latine Heritage Month is a time to honor the rich history and contributions of Latine people. For me, it represents not only a celebration of our shared heritage, but also a time of reflection and a reminder of our ongoing fight for justice. Since the overturning of Roe, and drawing from my own experiences as a Latine woman raised in Kentucky—a Southern state where no abortion clinics remain – being Latine means confronting a multitude of barriers in accessing reproductive care. Latinas are over-represented in states with the most restrictive abortion laws, and within our community, undocumented women face even greater challenges to accessing care.
The state of reproductive healthcare for undocumented Latinas
Undocumented women face significant challenges in receiving health care that is affordable, culturally concurrent, and in their preferred language. Despite contributing billions in tax dollars annually to social programs, undocumented immigrants are barred from accessing these programs, including federally funded health insurance. For childbearing undocumented people, this means restricted access to maternal care and contraceptive care and counseling. Additionally, the fear of deportation often prevents undocumented individuals from seeking care, leading many to delay support and treatment, missing out on vital prenatal and postpartum care, which can increase the risk of complications. The risk of deportation is even higher in the context of abortion care, especially for undocumented women living in states, such as Kentucky, where abortion seekers are forced to travel across state lines to access care, increasing their exposure to law enforcement. These barriers and policy gaps not only endanger their wellbeing but also the health of their families and communities.
During my time providing intake and referral services to undocumented, farmworking Latine communities in rural Kentucky, I witnessed firsthand the devastating impact of limited access to insurance and of abortion bans. Without public and affordable health insurance and the fear of deportation, I witnessed many undocumented farmworkers land in the ER after a sugar spike—unaware they were diabetic, due to delaying care. For childbearing undocumented individuals, accessing reproductive care was already challenging, as their home counties are often contraceptive deserts, which do not have a single health center that provides the full range of methods. These same counties are commonly maternity care deserts, too, with no birthing hospitals, birth centers, or obstetric providers. Even before Roe was overturned, there was only a single abortion clinic in my home state, which was inaccessible for many, especially the undocumented women I worked with, who faced transportation and cost barriers.
These gaps have only worsened with the fall of Roe, a reality that has been weaponized by crisis pregnancy centers. Crisis pregnancy centers (also known as fake clinics) masquerade as legitimate health centers, but in reality are run by individuals with little to no medical experience, and that push an anti-abortion agenda, seeking to misinform and dissuade those seeking abortion care. They prey on those most in need, offering free pregnancy tests and ultrasounds – but not ethical, high-quality, fully comprehensive care. Across the country, they outnumber real abortion clinics – and their presence has grown significantly in abortion restrictive states, like Kentucky. Near the community center where I worked, there is a fake clinic that advertises and offers its services in Spanish, luring many undocumented, Spanish-speaking women. Along with ultrasounds, they offer maternity bundles (diapers, wipes, infant formulas, and baby clothing) – resources that undocumented women often struggle to afford. Isolated and fearful of accessing the health care system, many turned to this free, yet harmful, center as their only option for “maternal care”. The barriers imposed by immigration status and exclusion from social safety net programs leaves undocumented Latine women vulnerable to harm and misinformation.
Latine women deserve a healthcare system and society where their reproductive health is prioritized and their care isn’t delayed or substandard due to language, socioeconomic, or immigration status. Undocumented Latine women are our present and future, and their reproductive health must be a priority—this month and every day.
As we approach November, I urge those able to vote to consider the millions of undocumented immigrants whose lives and futures will be shaped by the elections (both local and federally), yet are excluded from the ballot box. Local abortion funds are doing essential work to address the gaps left by abortion bans and immigration policies by providing language services, transportation, and childcare to those needing an abortion – and they need our support. We must also fight to ensure immigration status doesn’t bar anyone from accessing care. Congress must pass the Health Equity and Access under the Law (HEAL) for Immigrant Families Act, ensuring that all immigrants, regardless of status, have access to public and affordable health coverage. And we must ensure that as we work to defend and strengthen abortion rights and access, that we are doing so for all people.
