Advocates call it a clear case of reproductive injustice
Brittany Watts was in the emergency room at St. Joseph Warren Hospital, hooked up to an IV, when she received a notification on her phone. The live video showed police approaching her home’s front door, with her mother, Annette, in the garage.
A note gathered from the lawsuit regarding the nurses complaint: “Advised by risk management to contact Warren City Police to investigate the possibility of the infant being in a bucket at the patient’s residence,” prompted the police investigation. Det. Nick Carney, along with nurses Connie Moschell and Jordan Carrino, reassured Watts that she wasn’t in trouble.
“The nurse was rubbing my back, comforting me, telling me everything was going to be okay,” Watts said. “Little did I know that nurse was the one who called the police.”
They explained they were searching her home for a fetus she had miscarried earlier, which the hospital had now classified as a biohazard. Still recovering from her traumatic loss, Watts had no idea that the poor treatment she received from doctors would escalate into a criminal investigation.
Watts was initially charged with felony abuse of a corpse, but a grand jury later declined to indict her on those charges. Watts later filed a lawsuit accusing the hospital, police, and nurses of multiple violations, including constitutional breaches, medical negligence, and violations of her privacy and rights under the Emergency Medical Treatment & Labor Act (EMTALA).
Watts alleged in her lawsuit that Dr. Parisa Khavari failed to perform the standard miscarriage management options such as labor induction or D&E. Mercy Health did not respond to requests for comment on the hospital’s procedures regarding miscarriage management and EMTALA guidelines.
This case exemplifies the broader pattern of criminalizing Black women’s reproductive-related outcomes. Despite the grand jury dropping the charges, reproductive rights activists like Renee Bracey Sherman, Shayla Walker, and Michelle Goodwin are outraged by the initial charges. They argue that the stigmatization and criminalization of women’s reproductive experiences, particularly among low-income women of color, is expanding, exacerbated by the Dobbs decision that overturned Roe v. Wade.
Goodwin emphasized the long history of coercion and mistrust Black women face in the health care system, noting that seeking reproductive care often feels more like navigating law enforcement than receiving medical support. “Black women have experienced this before, where the patient-provider experience has become one of coercion and mistrust,” Goodwin said.
“The relationship is more law enforcement than medical care.” She also highlighted how Black women have been mistreated, even being shackled after childbirth, when disclosing personal information to health care providers. This systematic violation of medical ethics, Goodwin stated, continues to affect Black women today.
Bracey Sherman, in her critique, pointed to the longstanding surveillance and control over Black women’s reproduction, linking Watts’ case to this historical legacy. “The reproduction of Black women in the United States has always been policed, monitored and surveilled,” she stated, underscoring that access to reproductive health care has been limited or outright denied, resulting in poor outcomes for Black women in comparison to white women.
Bracey Sherman also criticized the way Watts was treated, noting how her actions, while grieving a miscarriage, were viewed with suspicion. “Her Blackness made her a suspect, not someone worthy of support,” Bracey Sherman said, pointing out how Black women (and some low-income white women) are disproportionately criminalized for pregnancy outcomes based on appearance and economic status.
Walker, executive director of Our Justice, echoed this concern, stressing that Watts’ case was not an isolated incident. “Brittany Watts’ case highlights that the criminalization of Black women’s reproductive choices are not isolated events, but part of a centuries-long history of devaluation, control and regulation,” Walker said. “For Black women and people who can give birth, the end of Roe v. Wade has only compounded the deep-rooted challenges that we have been facing when it comes to our reproductive care.”
“This is why the role of abortion funds is critical. Abortion funds, like Abortion Fund of Ohio, not only provide financial and logistical support for abortion seekers, but also advocate for the rights and dignity of all pregnant people,” said Lexis Dotson-Dufault, executive director of Ohio Abortion Funds.“Our communities deserve a world where stigma, criminalization, and punitive surveillance are not factors in their health care, and we must create that for them.”
Walker emphasized that the issue goes beyond abortion: “As Black people, we don’t have the luxury of debating whether or not we ‘believe’ in abortion when our very self-determination is at stake. The fight is not just about a single issue — and it never has been. It’s about the broader right, as Black people, to make decisions about our bodies, our futures, and our communities free from coercion and intervention from the state.”
Bracey Sherman, Goodwin and Walker all emphasized the deep-rooted history of reproductive injustice for Black women, drawing connections to the nation’s history of forced sterilizations and the ongoing criminalization of pregnancy outcomes. This history continues to shape the treatment of Black women and people who can give birth today, affecting their access to reproductive health care and their autonomy.
Clint Combs welcomes reader responses to ccombs@spokesman-recorder.com.