The following is the opinion and analysis of the writer:
Wendy Simmons
Will Arizona be a safe place for us to live and raise our family?
I think about that question when I’m gardening with my 4-year-old son. When we’re gazing at a campfire together, when we go for family walks.
We have already experienced first-hand the real risks and emotional harms that Arizonan families are facing due to its laws on abortion access. Our future here depends on the outcome of a voter-led ballot initiative in our state known as the Right to Abortion proposition, or Prop 139.
Abortion is a big issue in the election at the national level, and some states have ballot initiatives so that voters can override outright or restrictive early abortion bans. Even though our state has a 15-week abortion ban–what some people erroneously call a “compromise” — pregnant people here are suffering harm in the same way as women in outright ban states like Texas and Alabama.
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I know this because I am one of them.
A year ago, we had to say goodbye to our beloved baby daughter at 20 weeks gestation, a loss that was inescapable once my water broke prematurely. But as a result of Arizona’s restrictive abortion ban, my family could easily have lost me as well.
My diagnosis was the same as Amanda Zurawski of Texas and Anya Cook of Florida, who have publicly shared their own stories. My membranes ruptured too soon, and the amniotic fluid my daughter needed to thrive drained out of me. Known as PPROM, it is a fairly common and sometimes dangerous condition — one that, if not treated urgently, can create the perfect environment for sepsis and put the mother’s life at risk. In this case, my life.
I know now that when PPROM happens this early in pregnancy, the standard of care is a simple and essential medical procedure — an abortion. That is the only way to resolve this heartbreaking diagnosis and prevent the risk of infection for the mother.
My doctor sent me straight to Northwest Medical Center, where I had been receiving routine prenatal care. In the hospital that evening, my condition was confirmed, and the doctor said he’d admit me and provide treatment in the morning.
The new shift doctor the next day, however, promptly announced I was being discharged and sent home. Due to the laws in Arizona, there was “nothing we can do.”
The only guidance I received was from a nurse who said I should lie inverted, with my legs higher than my head, continuously, for the next several weeks because, “miracles can happen.” And to be diligent about cleaning myself frequently because “bacteria loves amniotic fluid.”
They knew the situation I was in was hopeless, and delaying treatment could easily lead to an infection that might kill me. And yet, like so many other women in states with abortion bans, I was sent home to fend for myself.
Turned away, devastated and in mourning, we began researching how to find the health care I desperately needed outside of Arizona. It took me almost a week to obtain an abortion, and it was just in time as I was already showing early signs of infection.
Today, with support from the Center for Reproductive Rights and If/When/How, I filed a federal complaint against the hospital that denied me stabilizing, life-preserving care in the midst of an emergency, so that others in Arizona won’t be turned away as I was.
If it passes, Prop 139 would establish a fundamental right to abortion access until the point of viability, or roughly 24 weeks, similar to what it was before Roe v. Wade was overturned two years ago. If you think Prop 139 isn’t necessary because women don’t need abortions after 15 weeks, I’d ask you to think about me and others who have shared their terrifying and inhuman experiences.
My family has lived here in Tucson for four generations. We all deserve to live in a place that protects our right to life-saving reproductive medical care.
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Wendy Simmons is an Arizona mom. Her family has lived in Tucson for four generations.

