By Christine Glang
October 2024, at what should have been a joyful nine-week ultrasound, I learned that my pregnancy had stopped developing three weeks earlier.
My doctor explained that the pregnancy was not viable. I was devastated — but the nightmare didn’t end there.
Because of South Carolina’s six-week abortion ban, my doctor would not treat me for a miscarriage until I underwent a second ultrasound 11 days later to confirm what we already knew: There was no heartbeat, and my pregnancy was over.
Each day that passed while I carried my nonviable pregnancy put me at increasing risk of infection, sepsis, and even death.
Women in other states with abortion bans, like Texas and Georgia, have already died under similar circumstances. South Carolina shouldn’t be next.
I needed a common medical procedure called dilation and curettage (D&C) to complete my miscarriage. Reasons for a D&C include miscarriage and abortion treatment.
Under our state’s laws, doctors who provide an illegal abortion face the threat of losing their medical license, a $10,000 fine, and even jail time.
I remembered thinking I should qualify for the procedure because my pregnancy was non-viable.
However, terrified for his own livelihood, my doctor told me he could not help me. So, while grieving my loss, I had to travel to Virginia and pay $3,000 out of pocket to get the care I desperately needed.
Now, lawmakers are considering S.323, a bill that would take things even further — stripping away the few remaining exceptions and putting more women and girls in danger.
If this bill passes, more people will be forced to leave the state or sit at home and hope their bodies do not become septic while waiting for a miscarriage to pass naturally. Some won’t make it.
I was fortunate to have the resources and support to travel. Many South Carolina women do not.
Those without the means will be left to risk their fertility, their health, and their lives because politicians decided their suffering was an acceptable price for a political talking point.
This isn’t just about people like me.
Under S.323, a sixth-grade girl could be forced to give birth after being raped by a family member. A mother of two could be forced to carry a pregnancy with a fatal fetal anomaly, only to watch her baby die shortly after birth.
These aren’t hypotheticals — they are the brutal, real-world consequences of laws like this.
Today, I am in my third trimester of a new pregnancy, and while I am deeply grateful, I remain painfully aware of how fragile pregnancy can be.
Every appointment brings both joy and anxiety, and I can’t help but think about how easily I — or anyone else — could face another crisis.
If something goes wrong again, I could find myself right back where I was last year: begging for care that my own state refuses to provide.
South Carolina lawmakers like to claim they are “protecting life.”
But S.323 would do the opposite: endanger women, girls, and families across our state.
The decision to end a pregnancy should belong to patients and their doctors — not politicians who will never face these terrifying moments themselves.
I want my daughter to grow up in a South Carolina where women’s lives are valued and protected, not sacrificed for politics.
Christine Glang lives in Simpsonville. She is a wife, and mother to her daughter. She is currently pregnant with a son due to arrive in early October. She was previously interviewed by WYFF4 about being denied miscarriage treatment under South Carolina’s six-week abortion ban.
