In February, Hawai‘i’s parole board granted the now-52-year-old compassionate release, which allows prisoners to receive early probation to seek .

But without a long-term care facility willing to accept him, Alameda has not been able to leave.

As of June, at least three other prisoners granted release to tend to their medical needs were living indefinitely in the infirmary after long-term care facilities were unwilling to accept them, primarily because of their criminal backgrounds, the state parole authority said.

“This is a challenge across the country,” said Molly Crane, an attorney for FAMM, which advocates for .

Every state allows for prisoners, though HawaiÊ»i is the only one without a specific law, relying instead on an internal policy. The prisoners who typically qualify for compassionate release can’t care for themselves or have terminal illnesses and may need an assisted living center, a nursing home, or hospice.

But many long-term care facilities nationwide decline to take such prisoners, leaving them incarcerated for months — or years — after they were granted release.

In , a study found that rejections from nursing homes soared after they were told that a patient was coming from prison. , prisoners with extensive medical needs stayed an average of 200 days after being granted parole, because of denials from long-term care centers. And in , prisoners granted parole sued the state when they couldn’t get placed in nursing homes.

President Donald Trump’s signature One Big Beautiful Bill Act further strains long-term care providers’ ability to take people from incarceration. Prisoners don’t qualify for Medicaid, so parolees after they’re granted the release. The law, enacted last summer, reduces the window in which facilities can get reimbursed from three months to before they apply. That means facilities risk not getting paid for new Medicaid patients whose applications are not submitted within the reduced timeframe.

The Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services “encourages providers and beneficiaries to prioritize timely application submission to maximize coverage,” CMS spokesperson Timothy Foster said.

‘Risk Is Just Too High’

Most nursing homes nationwide already have a waiting list for new residents, according to a by the American Health Care Association and the National Center for Assisted Living. Those waitlists are another hurdle to getting prisoners placed, said Bob Merce, a former attorney who advocates for prisoners’ compassionate release.

“We tell the nursing homes that most of the people who we are talking about cannot hurt somebody,” Merce said.

Some of the prisoners staying at the Halawa infirmary in June couldn’t walk or dress themselves. One man couldn’t recall what his illness was. Another with brain cancer couldn’t coherently respond to questions.

Sean Sanada, the OÊ»ahu Region CEO with the HawaiÊ»i Health Systems Corp., oversees the region’s two state-funded long-term care facilities, Leahi Hospital and Maluhia. Sanada said that the health system has reviewed dozens of compassionate release referrals but has never accepted any of them.

Sanada said the facilities don’t discriminate based on where the resident comes from. His main concerns, he said, were his staff’s safety and the lack of resources to adequately care for the patient.

“The risk is just too high in most of those instances,” Sanada said.

Violent incidents in long-term care facilities have been well documented. A observing 14 assisted living facilities found that in just one month, 15% of residents experienced resident-to-resident aggression.

When long-term care facilities refuse to accept prisoners who have been granted compassionate release, it leaves state taxpayers footing a larger bill. The annual cost to incarcerate an individual in Hawai‘i with complex needs is up to eight times the $112,505 average of housing one person in prison, according to FAMM. In comparison, the average Medicaid reimbursement for a long-term care patient at a Hawaiʻi Health Systems Corp. facility is about .

Four states — Connecticut, Georgia, Massachusetts, and Vermont — contract with nursing facilities to take prisoners who are granted compassionate release, according to FAMM.

The iCare Health Network’s MissionCare Health, which operates nursing homes for people coming out of prison, secured contracts in three of those states. David Skoczulek, iCare’s vice president of business development and communication, estimated that its rates are $100 to $350 a day more per patient than the average nursing home rates in the states where they operate.

In Hawaiʻi, the correctional department determines recommendations to send to the parole board, which decides whether to grant the release. Prisoners who are granted the early probation can be released to family members who commit to caring for them or to a long-term care facility.

Corey Reincke, head of the HawaiÊ»i Paroling Authority, said that in his 24-year career he couldn’t recall getting anyone placed into a long-term care facility without family intervening, for instance by contacting facilities themselves.

“Parole has to find a facility that can meet their medical needs and is also willing to take them,” Reincke said. “That’s where we’re hitting the roadblocks.”

For one parolee, Reincke called more than 100 care homes, he said, but they all declined to accept the patient, over safety concerns. According to a 2024 state report, while HawaiÊ»i’s long-term care facilities use about workforce strains make it difficult to maintain even those levels.

HawaiÊ»i Prisoners’ Refuge: Family

Last year, 69-year-old Paul Kupihea died at a hospital five days after the state granted him compassionate release to his family. He died before he could get on a flight to his home island.

In July 2025, Lahela Kruse, the mother of Kupihea’s child, received a call from a Honolulu hospital informing her that his condition had become severe. By then he had been diagnosed with an incurable form of cancer and had been in and out of the hospital while still in custody.

Kruse and their daughter flew to Oʻahu to see him and were shocked when they saw how sick he was. Their daughter agreed to take him into her home in Hilo, on Hawaiʻi Island, despite not having a relationship with him for most of her life.

“She knew he was sick,” Kruse said. “I told her that, but she didn’t know the severity of it. I didn’t truly know.”

Her daughter’s willingness to take him prompted his compassionate release. But Kruse said the notification about Kupihea’s illness came too late.

FAMM’s Crane has been working on expanding compassionate release laws in states to allow for more prisoners to qualify and strengthen transparency in the process. HawaiÊ»i lawmakers have tried for years to pass bills on compassionate release, but none has succeeded.

Crane said without a law that outlines a formal process and who qualifies, even family support isn’t enough. Prisoners can still face life-threatening delays, she said.

“The absence of a compassionate release statute means that people who need compassionate release languish and even die in prison,” Crane said.

In Alameda’s cell, two beds stood about 3 feet apart, with a seatless metal toilet in the corner and a window looking out on a concrete wall. The smell of bleach permeated the room. Alameda said he hoped to see his daughter soon. She recently turned 5.

“I made some mistakes in my life,” said Alameda, who has been incarcerated since 2024 for drug possession, driving a stolen vehicle, and jumping bail. “I tried when my daughter was born, but I know I’ll change, because she needs me out of here.”

Merce, the former attorney, is still trying to find a place for Alameda, who committed no violent crimes. Merce became aware of prisoners’ struggles through his work as a trial lawyer. He said he has helped about 15 prisoners leave HawaiÊ»i correctional facilities for medical treatment.

He said he’s seen cases in which people have waited years to get out.

“The ones that stick with me, though,” Merce said, “are the ones that I never found placements for.”

This article first appeared on Ñî¹óåú´«Ã½Ò•îl Health News and is republished here under a .

Under a law enacted last year, five of Indiana’s largest nonprofit hospital systems cannot charge patients covered by job-based health plans more than an established price cap. Hospitals that fail to keep prices below the threshold by 2029 risk losing their tax-exempt status — which would mean owing millions of dollars in state taxes.

Even before that penalty kicks in, the law requires these hospitals, which control nearly half the state’s hospital market, to offer direct-to-employer contracts — bypassing insurers — and stay within limits set by the state. Hospitals that don’t comply face a $10,000-a-day penalty.

Many other Indiana hospitals must comply with this provision beginning in September.

Indiana’s law comes amid growing frustration with rising insurance costs and hospital prices, the of growing healthcare costs.

Government price controls, of course, are nothing new in healthcare. Since the mid-1960s, the federal government has set prices it pays hospitals for treating Medicare enrollees, as states do for Medicaid patients. Those two government programs cover more than 135 million people nationwide.

But hospitals face no such government limit on what they charge for the more than 165 million Americans covered by employer-paid insurance.

Indiana isn’t the only state targeting hospital prices. Vermont also limits how much hospitals can charge for people covered by employer plans.

Washington and Oregon have made similar attempts, on a smaller scale, targeting state employee health plans. Oregon’s hospitals cannot charge the state employee plan more than two times the Medicare rate for services. This caps the state payment for a service at $200 if Medicare pays $100. Within the first two years, the plan saved more than $100 million.

Legislation has been proposed in Colorado and New York to enact similar price controls.

Hospital leaders and other opponents of price controls argue that the strategy doesn’t address the root causes of high hospital prices, such as rising labor, drug, and technology costs, and that the caps will force hospitals to cut services. Another challenge is that few employers contract directly with hospitals.

On most policy issues, Indiana and Vermont likely agree on very little, “except for this is one area where they both see that hospital prices are high,” said Brown University economist Christopher Whaley.

Wielding state power to control prices is a strategy typically led by Democrats. But Mike Braun, the Republican governor who helped muscle through the changes over the objections of the Indiana hospital industry, said the healthcare system is too broken to leave alone.

“Government has to intervene, because healthcare is run like an unregulated utility,” he told Ñî¹óåú´«Ã½Ò•îl Health News.

The five Indiana nonprofit hospital systems involved are Ascension St. Vincent, Community Health Network, Franciscan Health, Indiana University Health, and Parkview Health.

The price cap will be based on the statewide average for inpatient and outpatient hospital prices. Indiana will use Medicare as a yardstick by which to measure commercial prices, a comparison commonly used by researchers. This will show how much higher commercial prices are than the government program’s.

By June 30, the state is expected to issue a report showing average hospital prices in the state and where individual hospitals fall on the spectrum.

For years, have found that Indiana hospital prices are some of the highest in the nation.

The , produced in November, found three of the five nonprofit hospital systems exceeded a voluntary benchmark when excluding practitioner services, such as doctor fees.

However, all five hospital systems were below the voluntary benchmark when doctor services were wrapped into the overall score. This finding illustrates how prices for doctor visits may obscure overall hospital prices by bringing down the average, researchers and lobbyists for employers told Ñî¹óåú´«Ã½Ò•îl Health News.

Rand researchers found that while Indiana is home to some of the highest-paid hospitals, its doctors are among the lowest paid in the nation. That’s partly because the doctors don’t have the same negotiating leverage as the handful of large health systems.

This disparity has sparked a debate over which prices should be used to calculate the upcoming cap. Including doctor services would likely allow hospitals to keep prices high because they would be offset by low doctor prices, said Whaley, who has co-authored Rand’s pricing reports. This would let hospitals off the hook from doing the work to “move the needle” on lowering prices, he said.

Indiana Hospital Association President Scott Tittle said it’s unfair to exclude doctor services.

Hospitals often acquire physician practices to help drive admissions, . But Tittle said it also helps keep doctor offices open and preserves access for residents. That comes at a cost, he said.

“We know it is absolutely part of the complete cost of care,” Tittle said.

Despite the hospital lobby’s efforts, Tittle said, the state will exclude doctor services from the cap.

Regardless, Tittle said it’s unnecessary to put price caps in state law. “Hospitals can and have done the hard work to reduce their pricing,” he said.

For employers, rising healthcare costs are a headache. They’re unpredictable and make it difficult to budget each year.

Doug Bawel, chairman of Jasper Holdings, an automotive parts company based in Jasper, Indiana, has tried various strategies to wrestle high healthcare costs. For his workers, he’s purchased diabetes drugs from New Zealand and housed on-site health clinics.

Under the law enacted last year, Indiana hospitals must offer direct contracts to employers for a variety of procedures priced at or below 260% of what Medicare pays for hospital care. That’s setting a ceiling at slightly more than 2.5 times what Medicare pays.

Bawel expects the state’s price controls on direct deals to significantly strengthen his negotiating leverage with hospitals. He belongs to a consortium of southern Indiana employers that buy services directly from area hospitals.

This move represents a departure from the status quo for the business lobby. Ashton Eller, a healthcare lobbyist for the Indiana Manufacturers Association, said the group generally opposes government price controls. But it believes this is a step in the right direction, he said.

“Is this a silver bullet that will bring down prices overnight? We don’t pretend it is,” he said.

No matter what happens in the Hoosier State, Indiana’s experiment with price controls has attracted attention.

“As employers and states are dealing with double-digit premium increases, there is tremendous interest in healthcare affordability, and what happens in Indiana is being closely watched by many states and Washington, D.C.,” Whaley said.

This article first appeared on Ñî¹óåú´«Ã½Ò•îl Health News and is republished here under a .

Their plan would have helped pay to treat low-income, uninsured patients.

But federal leaders overseeing the five-year, $50 billion Rural Health Transformation Program said no.

“It was not our decision,” said Lisa Letourneau, a senior adviser at Maine’s health department.

Letourneau told an audience of healthcare providers, advocates, and community groups during a March webinar that the change was “disappointing.”

Maine isn’t alone in having to make changes to plans pitched to win a share of the Trump administration’s new rural health fund.

Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services Administrator Mehmet Oz when announcing the rural health program awards last year and said his agency would help states “turn their ideas into lasting improvements for rural families.”

But state officials and healthcare leaders said it’s also clear the agency wants to encourage specific policy changes and hold states accountable to the promises they made and rules they agreed to follow.

During the past six months, as states raced to meet the program’s looming federal deadlines, CMS staffers worked with state health departments to make a flurry of changes, including scrapping some initiatives. The federal agency to rescind existing funding — or reduce future awards — if states don’t follow rules or meet their goals. “We will take the money back” if states “don’t abide by what they wrote, if they don’t do a good job,” Oz said at an event this month in Washington, D.C.

Congressional Republicans created the Rural Health Transformation Program as a last-minute sweetener in their One Big Beautiful Bill Act last summer. The funding was intended to offset concerns about the anticipated in rural communities from the law, which is expected to reduce Medicaid spending by more than $900 billion over a decade.

On a call with reporters in December, Oz said “one of the smartest things the president and Congress” did when creating the program was to create a threat of “clawbacks,” or taking money back if states don’t do what they promised in their applications.

Oz went on to describe how the clawback mechanism gives governors leverage to press their legislatures to adopt the Trump administration’s priorities, such as instituting the presidential fitness test in schools.

“This gives you extra umph, a little bit of gusto to go after these issues,” he said.

That message was received loudly and clearly in Tennessee. Michael Hendrix, policy director for the governor’s office, said during a hearing that federal officials said the state “would be more competitive for more funding through policy change.” He said CMS also relayed that “some share of this year’s funding, if policies are not implemented, might be clawed back.”

The threat of rescinding funding has caused fear and confusion among health organization leaders, said Alan Morgan, CEO of the National Rural Health Association.

“We’re worried that facilities and organizations won’t apply for the grant money because of the fears of the clawbacks,” he said, adding that he would like the administration to clarify if federal officials could take back grant money that states have already awarded to rural health organizations.

While clawbacks are a “necessary, important tool” to address misuse of funds and ensure the money goes toward helping rural communities, they are also “a dangerous tool,” said Morgan, whose organization represents rural hospitals and clinics.

CMS did not respond to multiple requests for comment.

States must file progress reports . They then have to commit their first-year funding and Sept. 30, 2027, to spend it.

States are progressing at wildly different rates, with some still developing grant applications and others already distributing money, created by Morgan’s rural health association.

In late January, Iowa became . The tracker shows that most states have opened grant applications, but 11 others, including Wyoming, Maine, and Colorado, have yet to post any funding opportunities.

CMS’ tight control over state programs is one reason for such disparity in progress.

Instead of typical grants, the rural health program uses cooperative agreements, which require a back-and-forth partnership, said Charlie Sagona, a grant specialist at Assel Grant Services, a consulting firm that helps organizations manage grants.

“You are going to be working very, very closely with them; things will ebb and flow and change and move,” said Sagona, who is helping several large hospital systems interested in winning some of the rural funding.

Kate Sapra, deputy director of CMS’ Office of Rural Health Transformation, said at a May event that the agency has “many avenues of oversight.” Staffers are tracking applications for state funding and “looking to see when contracts are executed,” she said.

Sapra said the agency wants to “have conversations with states before they get to the point” of putting out something that’s not allowed. It’s “really important to us” for the funding to reach rural providers, she added.

Sapra said her office has filled about half of 30 new slots for project officers. The officers and the states check in “at least twice a month, if not on a weekly basis.”

Vermont Medicaid Director Jill Mazza Olson, who led her state’s rural health application, said the officers are “very responsive.”

Vermont is one of the states that had to ditch or tweak its plans. Olson said the state pulled its plan to increase housing for rural healthcare workers after federal officials said they would evaluate the proposal based on the agency’s guidelines for construction projects at healthcare facilities. Those rules allow only “minor” renovations to existing buildings or campuses.

In Colorado, state leaders changed grant eligibility rules after they “received feedback” from CMS and healthcare providers, said Marc Williams, a spokesperson for the state’s Department of Health Care Policy and Financing.

Wyoming legislators and state officials spent months designing, discussing, and voting on a plan to invest most of its award into a perpetuity fund that could have generated $28.5 million for the state to spend every year, “forever,” according to .

The state had to pull the idea because it “was a degree too innovative for CMS to swallow,” said Republican state Sen. Charles Scott, a veteran lawmaker and cattle rancher. “This whole thing has been a bit of a disappointment to us in Wyoming.”

Stefan Johansson, director of the state’s health department, said Wyoming’s final spending plan wasn’t approved until mid- to late May. He said the department hopes to begin awarding money in late summer or early fall.

“Make no mistake — it is a very compressed timeline,” he said.

Across the country, Maine was forced to rework its plan to reimburse hospitals and clinics when they provide to certain uninsured patients.

Letourneau said during her March remarks that federal officials rejected this idea because “provider payments had to be more directly linked to a rural transformation kind of activity.”

Lindsay Hammes, a spokesperson for Maine’s health department, told Ñî¹óåú´«Ã½Ò•îl Health News that funding will instead help providers transition to reimbursement models that aren’t based on how many patients they treat.

Reworked plans call for spending $28.5 million to support providers, Letourneau said in March.

“But there definitely will be more strings attached.”

Ñî¹óåú´«Ã½Ò•îl Health News correspondent Darius Tahir contributed to this report.

This article first appeared on Ñî¹óåú´«Ã½Ò•îl Health News and is republished here under a .

She spoke at rallies. With other members of the advocacy organization Compassion & Choices, she visited legislators’ offices. In 2024, as the state Assembly was debating the aid in dying bill, she helped unfurl a banner in the chamber gallery that read, “Stop the Suffering.”

Her activism was becoming difficult. Netherland, who is 59 and works for a nonprofit, was diagnosed with breast cancer in 2019. “I did a full year of aggressive treatment,” she said. “Chemotherapy. A mastectomy. Radiation treatment every weekday for five weeks. Six months of two oral medications.”

She recovered and felt well until the cancer returned a few years later. Although metastatic breast cancer is incurable, drugs are keeping her disease at bay for now. Netherland feels fortunate but also fatigued, and she contends with brain fog, gastrointestinal symptoms, and joint pain.

“My energy is really limited,” she said.

As she emailed and called legislators, Netherland feared she might die before the aid in dying bill — first introduced in New York in 2016 — could become law.

‘A Breakthrough Moment’

On June 9, 2025, after the Assembly approved the bill, Netherland was in the state Senate chamber, watching the aye votes mount, and seeing it pass.  an amended version in February; it is scheduled to take effect Aug. 5.

A similar law is  in September in Illinois, which would become the (plus the District of Columbia) where medical aid in dying is legal.

“A breakthrough moment,” said Kevin Díaz, president of Compassion & Choices, which has spearheaded the long campaign for such laws. After almost 30 years — Oregon’s law, the first in the country, was enacted in 1997 — the addition of two populous states means that almost a third of Americans will live in one where medical aid in dying is legally available. “It shows that there’s broad support for this model,” Díaz said.

Polls consistently back that claim. A  last spring found that almost two-thirds of respondents didn’t consider the practice “morally wrong,” either because they thought it was acceptable or not a moral issue. Support crossed many political and religious lines: A narrow majority of Republicans and 76% of Democrats both found “physician-assisted death” (also sometimes called “physician-assisted suicide”) permissible; so did most Catholics, Jews, and nonevangelical white Protestants.

In New York,  that 54% of respondents supported aid in dying, including majorities of men and women, of all age groups, and of city, suburban, and upstate residents. A plurality of Latinos supported it; Black respondents narrowly opposed it.

Passing these laws has grown somewhat easier, said Thaddeus Pope, a bioethicist and professor at Mitchell Hamline School of Law in St. Paul, Minnesota, who tracks such policies. “You can say, ‘We have 10 years in California, 18 years in Washington, and 29 years in Oregon, and nothing bad has happened.’ It becomes more accepted.”

‘You Need A, B, and C’

Yet legalizing medical aid in dying, or MAID, has been and remains a long, contentious process. Catholic leadership and many disability organizations staunchly oppose it. (Pope Leo XIV personally  not to sign the bill.)

The American Medical Association says that “physician-assisted suicide is fundamentally incompatible with the physician’s role as healer” and poses “serious societal risks,” although a number of state medical organizations have opted to remain neutral or, as in New York, to .

The Patients’ Rights Action Fund, through a sister organization, has lawsuits pending or on appeal in California, Delaware, and Colorado, arguing that aid in dying laws discriminate against people with disabilities by steering them toward physician-assisted suicide instead of treatment.

“This is a litigation strategy we’ve developed to ultimately get to the Supreme Court,” said Matt Vallière, the group’s executive director, who declined to say whether it would sue to block the Illinois and New York laws.

Even when aid in dying laws succeed, using them can prove challenging. In every state (except Montana, where it became legal through a court decision, so there is no statute governing eligibility), aid in dying is available only to people with incurable illnesses who are expected to die within six months.

It typically involves oral and written requests to two doctors, with mandated waiting periods between requests. Patients must have the mental capacity to make the decision, which disqualifies those with dementia, and they must ingest the medication without assistance. (An amendment Hochul insisted on adds a psychologist or psychiatrist to the process.)

All but two states require patients to be residents. Oregon and Vermont scrapped their residency requirements  brought by Compassion & Choices. ( a .)

Moreover, any doctor, hospital, or healthcare system can legally decline to provide aid in dying, and religiously affiliated institutions often opt out. Those that participate can add their own requirements.

“The state can say ‘You need A, B, and C,’ and Columbia-Presbyterian can say, ‘We also want D, E, and F,’” said Pope, the Minnesota bioethicist.

Hotly Debated, Seldom Used

Perhaps these restrictions, or a lack of public awareness, help explain why, despite the headlines and fervent debates, the number of people who actually use the law is tiny in every state — usually 1% or fewer of the deaths recorded annually. The support for giving patients this kind of autonomy at the end of life remains widespread, but the desire to personally exercise it apparently is not.

Still, after studies showed that many patients seeking MAID were dying , the trend has been to loosen restrictions. California cut its 15-day waiting period to 48 hours; New Mexico allows physician assistants and advanced-practice nurses to write prescriptions along with doctors.

“Most states have now amended their laws two or three times,” Pope said. “We have liberalized.” Telehealth can also facilitate access to participating doctors.

Compassion & Choices is planning legal challenges to end residency requirements in additional states, Díaz said. It is also considering how to “make inroads in jurisdictions with a much different cultural and political environment,” he added, mentioning Florida and other Southern states.

Medical aid in dying represents a shift in power, Díaz said. “The person who has to bear the burden of the suffering should have the ability to decide when it’s enough,” he added.

Anne Gurnett Bander, 72, a retired research scientist in Carmel, New York, cared for her husband for four years as ALS — the relentlessly disabling neurological disorder also known as Lou Gehrig’s disease — rendered him bedridden and dependent on feeding and breathing tubes. “By the time he died, the only thing he could do was nod his head,” she recalled.

So being diagnosed with ALS herself last year was “my worst possible nightmare,” Gurnett Bander said. She was planning to fly to Switzerland, where the nonprofit organization Dignitas provides medical aid in dying, when she learned about the New York bill and began speaking publicly in support of it, her voice faltering as her illness advanced.

Gurnett Bander and Netherland say they’re not certain they’ll use lethal drugs to end their lives as their symptoms intensify. Not infrequently, patients complete the necessary steps, secure the prescribed medication, decide they don’t need it after all, and die of their diseases. But both women insist that the choice should be theirs.

“It can offer so much peace of mind,” Netherland said. “I thought, ‘People should have this option.’ Now, they will.”

The New Old Age is produced through a partnership with .

This article first appeared on Ñî¹óåú´«Ã½Ò•îl Health News and is republished here under a .

Hundreds of detainees across at least 33 states allege in federal suits that immigration detention facilities are failing to provide adequate medical care, an investigation by Ñî¹óåú´«Ã½Ò•îl Health News and The Associated Press found. Detainees say they didn’t get medications on time — or at all — for conditions including high blood pressure, diabetes, depression, epilepsy, Parkinson’s, and HIV. Requests for help went unanswered for weeks. Blood sugars rose. Infections festered. Cancers remained untreated. Detainees collapsed and had seizures.

U.S. jails and immigration detention centers have to meet the medical needs of the people in their charge. But the system is sagging under an influx of detentions since President Donald Trump returned to office: More than 75,000 immigrants were being detained by U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement , up from around 40,000 a year earlier.

Ñî¹óåú´«Ã½Ò•îl Health News and AP analyzed thousands of court cases filed since Trump’s second inauguration that use a legal route known as habeas corpus to argue people are being held illegally by ICE. The records offer a rare window into how those detained say, often under penalty of perjury, ICE is handling their medical needs. Reporters also interviewed more than 50 detainees, family members, and lawyers.

The investigation revealed that medical neglect is alleged across the sprawling detention system, including in offices not designed to house people, county jails, and quickly staged sites with nicknames such as “Alligator Alcatraz.”

ICE custody is deadlier than it has been in two decades, researchers wrote in April. The Department of Homeland Security reported 51 people had died in detention since the start of Trump’s second administration — with suicides .

Ñî¹óåú´«Ã½Ò•îl Health News and AP asked DHS to respond to the findings six days before publication, but it did not provide comment. The department’s acting chief medical officer, Sean Conley, has “it is both policy and longstanding practice for aliens to receive timely and appropriate medical care from the moment they enter ICE custody” and that the agency recruits healthcare professionals to maintain high standards. “This is better, more responsive healthcare than many aliens have ever received in their entire lives,” he has said.

Individual facilities and private prison companies contracting with DHS that responded to requests for comment said they follow ICE standards and detainees receive medical care when it is required. Some said they were unfamiliar with the allegations outlined in court documents; others blamed some detainees for lapses in their medical care.

“I have never seen such disregard or medical neglect like this anywhere,” Vardan Gukasian, a political dissident and former paramedic who spent years behind bars in Armenia, wrote in in March to contest his detention in Henderson, Nevada, as it stretched to 13 months despite health problems.

Madeleine Skains, a spokesperson for the city of Henderson, said medical care is always available at the facility and that the court had not ordered changes to his care.

Last June, as Gukasian experienced the symptoms of uncontrolled high blood pressure — dizziness, a nosebleed, and a headache — his cellmate banged on their door for help.

“When it did not arrive, the rest of the block banged on their doors,” he wrote. Gukasian was hospitalized that day.

‘Brazen Indifference to Really Obvious Problems’

The administration’s mass deportation effort has swept up during routine immigration check-ins, at traffic stops, at their homes, and in hospitals.

About have no criminal conviction. Their immigration proceedings are civil, not criminal.

“I couldn’t understand why they treated me so harshly,” said a father of six in Georgia. He said he was injured while shackled in custody when the vehicle transporting him to an Atlanta facility jolted, throwing him out of his seat and into a metal armrest. His wound became infected with E. coli, he said, because he had to sleep on a dirty concrete floor amid leaking toilets.

Like other detainees interviewed, he spoke on the condition of anonymity; they said they fear for their safety, for the safety of their families, or that speaking out would jeopardize their immigration cases. The AP and Ñî¹óåú´«Ã½Ò•îl Health News are not naming anyone identified in court documents without their consent.

Staffers at Stewart Detention Center in rural Lumpkin, Georgia, didn’t adequately respond to that man’s request for medical help, , until he passed out and was taken to a hospital about an hour away. There, he said, a doctor told him he’d narrowly escaped amputation of his left leg. Medical staff found no records of a case matching this description, according to Brian Todd, a spokesperson for CoreCivic, which runs the facility.

The 48-year-old, who moved to the U.S. from Guatemala more than two decades ago, was released in October and is now a legal permanent resident. But he is unsure if he’ll be able to return to his job in construction because, he said, he can no longer lift heavy things due to his injury.

Some detainees or their lawyers said even basic care was denied: gauze to protect an open foot wound, prenatal care for a high-risk pregnancy, a pillow to ease the pain of sleeping with advanced stomach cancer, sanitary pads for postpartum bleeding.

“I would like to believe the government has the best interest of those it holds in detention for whatever period of time,” Judge Benita Pearson, a federal judge in Ohio, said during a hearing in October concerning a 70-year-old who alleged the government lost her glasses during her arrest. “If one is unable to see due to the loss of glasses when detained, that should be fixed.”

, who worked for ICE and now serves as a special adviser to the American Bar Association, said case law requires the government to treat people in immigration detention with the same care it affords those in traditional jails awaiting trial. But administrators are granted discretion and medical care standards vary.

Detainees are frequently moved across the country, often without warning, interrupting treatment. A woman from El Salvador said she missed a week of HIV medication when she was transferred from Colorado to a county jail in Wyoming.

A Russian man wrote that, while detained in Texas, he saw a gastroenterologist about his painful gallstones and scheduled an appointment with a surgeon. “Unfortunately, I never got to see him, due to my being moved around various detention centers.”

Advocates say that even obvious disabilities, like legal blindness, are ignored.

A detainee who lost one eye and had severe glaucoma in the other required twice-daily drops to maintain what vision remained. But, he said, some days the drops never came.

“Now I can only see a little bit straight in front. It now often looks like I’m seeing through gauze,” the man wrote in a court declaration. “This makes me very afraid that one of these times I am going to open my eyes and not be able to see anything at all.”

He wrote that he was scared he wouldn’t be able to see his infant son grow up.

“It’s just sort of brazen indifference to really obvious problems, things you would have thought absurd a decade ago — like the fact that you can’t see,” the man’s attorney, Brian Hoffman, said. “Before, you could attempt to work with folks on the government side and maybe shame them into doing the right thing. Now, it’s sort of like anything you want done you have to go to court and sue over.”

Even court orders aren’t always enough. One California judge ordered the government to take a man showing signs of prostate cancer to a specialist for diagnosis and treatment. Records show they did not take him.

Lawyers representing ICE told the judge that officials missed the appointment because of an “internal scheduling error.” CoreCivic, which runs that facility, said it was unable to comment on active litigation.

A Surge in Cases

When immigrants file habeas corpus petitions, they exercise a right to challenge unlawful imprisonment that dates to .

More than 40,000 such petitions have been filed during Trump’s second term, fueled by decisions last year to deny bond to many people held on immigration charges. Judges are split on whether that’s legal; the question appears headed to the Supreme Court.

Many habeas claims , but judges typically cite reasons unrelated to the medical neglect described in the petitions, such as detainees’ being held too long before being deported.

The more than 300 medical neglect claims found in this investigation represent a fraction of the problem. The details of habeas corpus cases are often hidden due to a federal rule barring the public from viewing such documents online. Ñî¹óåú´«Ã½Ò•îl Health News and AP obtained some documents from courthouses and received records on 4,400 cases from , a project of the nonprofit Immigration Justice Transparency Initiative. But tens of thousands more remain largely inaccessible.

Some judges have written that the habeas process is not how to raise allegations of medical neglect and have declined to release detainees over those claims. Not every detainee who believes they experienced medical neglect files a habeas petition or cites their medical issues if they do.

Jose-Antonio Segismundo’s petition made no mention of being unable to see an oncologist for the cancer in his abdomen while detained for more than seven months at the Florida detention facility known as Alligator Alcatraz and Folkston D Ray ICE Processing Center in Georgia. Medical records in his court filings show he was arrested about five weeks before his scheduled appointment with a cancer specialist.

His wife, Maria Jose Gonzalez, said he didn’t receive any treatment even though she sent his medical records and explained his condition to officials at Folkston. When his stomach pain erupted, often suddenly and intensely, she said, they gave him Tylenol.

Geo Group, which runs Folkston, follows ICE standards and provides healthcare and access to off-site medical specialists when needed, spokesperson Christopher Ferreira said.

This spring, Segismundo, 48, was deported to Mexico, a country he left nearly 30 years ago, Gonzalez said. Now, she said, he will have to restart his search for care in the Oaxacan village where he grew up.

Watching Loved Ones Deteriorate

Detainees receiving inadequate healthcare have little recourse. The Department of Homeland Security last year gutted the Office of the Immigration Detention Ombudsman. In early May, it shut the office entirely, arguing that Congress didn’t fund it.

Previously, ombudsman staffers could help facilitate medical care or look into complaints of neglect, according to Matt Boles, an immigration attorney in Georgia. Now, he said, there’s no one to call.

Meanwhile, detainees’ families said they feel helpless, making desperate calls to facilities, the government, and their legislators while watching their loved ones deteriorate.

Riya Khan saw her mother get sicker at the California City Detention Facility, which is owned by CoreCivic. When she visited a week after her mother arrived at the facility in the Mojave Desert, Riya said, the 64-year-old woman stumbled into her seat. She was shaking and her breathing was labored.

Masuma Khan came to the U.S. from Bangladesh in 1997. She has no criminal history, her records say, and was detained in October when she showed up for her regular ICE check-in.

For the month she was detained, according to her daughter, she only intermittently received her medications for conditions including high blood pressure, hypothyroidism, and prediabetes. CoreCivic treats chronic conditions in line with applicable medical standards, Todd said.

“Nothing matters more to CoreCivic than the health, safety and well-being of the people in our care,” Todd said.

Khan said she got her asthma medication for the first time two days before she was released and that her eye drops for glaucoma never arrived. Staffers told Khan she needed to buy some of her medications from the commissary but it didn’t stock them, her daughter said.

Before ICE detained Masuma Khan, she made friends with everyone, her daughter said. She had worked for years at Lucky Boy, an iconic Pasadena fast-food restaurant, and in her free time fed birds and left out fruit for bees that visited her apartment’s balcony.

Now she’s too scared to go outside. She still must regularly check in with ICE, and she’s terrified each time.

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A Stroke on a Video Call

Previously, detainees with serious medical needs would likely have been released on humanitarian parole, in part to avoid the cost of their care, Vermont attorney Andrew Pelcher said.

In fiscal year 2023 — before the detained population soared — ICE spent more than $390 million on healthcare for detained noncitizens, according to its to Congress. In May, Todd Lyons, then acting director of ICE, said at a conference that the agency had already spent “almost half a billion dollars” on detainee healthcare this year.

Now, under “mandatory detention,” people are staying locked up with serious — and expensive — conditions.

A Romanian citizen underwent several heart surgeries, including an emergency triple bypass in April 2025, before he was arrested in July. As part of his recovery, the 52-year-old was required to take 16 daily medications. While at an ICE field office in Baltimore, his court filings allege, he went two days without any medication before officials moved him to a facility in New Jersey.

He was hospitalized three times while detained, complaining of chest pains — in part, medical records and court documents say, because despite “countless requests,” the detention center did not provide all his medications. Hospital discharge papers cited by his lawyer show he received only eight of the 16 medications after his second release from the hospital.

“Can you please talk to the ICE facility to make sure they give him his medications?” his treatment providers wrote in medical records included in his court filings. “He was admitted last week for chest pain and today he was readmitted again for chest pain secondary to non compliance for medications.”

Several weeks later in August, he had a stroke while on a video call with his daughter, according to court filings. “He was struggling to breathe, and was pointing at his chest where he was again experiencing pain, and suddenly stopped speaking.” His daughter screamed for help through the video monitor, according to his petition. “Eventually an officer came in to assist him and cut the feed.”

The man lost his ability to speak for four days, the document says. He was returned to detention, where he remained until a federal judge ordered his release in November.

Impossible Choices

Cassandra Amador waits for the phone to ring every morning, desperate to ask her husband the question that’s woken her up every night for months: “Did you get your medicine?”

Her husband, Pedro Javier Amador Gutierrez, 36, has high blood pressure and depends on the state-run facility in Florida nicknamed “Deportation Depot” to administer the prescriptions that have kept him alive for years. Many mornings, he tells his wife he did not get them.

When she talks to him, she said, he sounds weaker and more scared every day, not like the upbeat man who would take her kids out for ice cream.

“You can hear in his voice how he feels,” she said.

Now, she said, he’s considering returning to Cuba, which he fled because of political persecution, out of fear that he will die in detention without his medicines. Amador and her children would go with him, she said, even though she was born in New Jersey, has never been to Cuba, and doesn’t speak much Spanish.

But he’s already collapsed twice at the Baker Correctional Institution in Sanderson, Florida, his wife said. She’s terrified that the next time, he won’t get up.

Methodology

Ñî¹óåú´«Ã½Ò•îl Health News and The Associated Press sifted through thousands of immigration habeas corpus claims to find allegations of medical neglect from people detained by U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement during the second Trump administration.

Without a comprehensive, publicly available dataset of medical complaints by those in ICE custody, we used immigration habeas corpus claims to identify detainees’ healthcare-related allegations raised in federal court. Although the intended purpose of habeas corpus is to challenge the legality of a petitioner’s detention — rather than conditions of their confinement — these filings sometimes include detainees’ claims of inadequate healthcare.

But habeas corpus filings are not always publicly available. Federal rules restrict how members of the public can access habeas petitions filed by people in immigration detention. For most of these cases, court websites publish only court orders and dockets describing other filings. The initial petitions are available only through in-person visits to federal courthouses across the country. Habeas Dockets, a project of the nonprofit Immigration Justice Transparency Initiative, coordinates a nationwide network of volunteers to gather these petitions and make them available online.

Ñî¹óåú´«Ã½Ò•îl Health News and AP analyzed the dockets of roughly 33,000 cases filed by detainees from Jan. 20, 2025, through March 2026. The vast majority of cases had only basic procedural information, like dates of court filings and rulings. Only about 4,400 included the original petitions.

We also gathered a few dozen case files from courthouses, lawyers, and the Massachusetts federal district court website, which posts most petitions under a unique standing order.

We ran keyword and semantic searches of court records, including petitions, motions, and orders, for terms and phrases potentially related to medical neglect, such as surgery, medications, inadequate medical care, and treatment for chronic conditions such as diabetes and high blood pressure.

We found about 500 cases potentially alleging medical neglect. At least two reporters reviewed each case manually, yielding more than 300 cases containing specific allegations in sworn filings of delayed, denied, or deficient healthcare.

To be conservative, we excluded dozens of cases that alleged inadequate medical care but lacked specifics, for example a petitioner writing, “I have been sick and don’t get proper treatment,” or a judge noting a petitioner “complains that ICE is ignoring his medical problems.” We also excluded cases in which petitioners claimed only that they were denied special diets, exercise, or other accommodations that they said were key to managing their health conditions, such as a petitioner writing, “I suffer from Parkinson’s and cannot properly exercise,” or claiming that the food provided was unfit for a person with diabetes.

The cases we analyzed were neither randomly selected nor representative of immigration habeas filings nationwide. The claims were not independently verified. Many filings are not publicly available, and not all detainees raise medical concerns in court, so our account of cases represents a limited window into the landscape of claims, rather than a comprehensive picture.

Associated Press journalists Garance Burke, Valerie Gonzalez, and Tim Sullivan as well as Ñî¹óåú´«Ã½Ò•îl Health News correspondent Kate Wells contributed to this report.

This report is a collaboration between The Associated Press and Ñî¹óåú´«Ã½Ò•îl Health News.

This article first appeared on Ñî¹óåú´«Ã½Ò•îl Health News and is republished here under a .

The certified professional midwife pressed the button on a handheld Doppler ultrasound machine she placed on Collins’ belly. “That’s her heartbeat,” she said to Collins’ 3-year-old daughter, who sat beside her mom as a whooshing sound filled the room. “I think Mommy’s baby’s right here.”

The midwife is not licensed as a nurse. In Georgia, that makes what she’s doing illegal. Ñî¹óåú´«Ã½Ò•îl Health News agreed not to identify her by name.

Georgia is one of seven states where delivering babies can earn non-nurse midwives, at minimum, a cease-and-desist letter requiring them to end their careers. In North Carolina, it’s a . In New York, .

Meanwhile, demand for their services is increasing. Intended home births rose by 42% nationally from 2020 to 2024, according to the National Center for Health Statistics, and those births are often overseen by certified professional midwives. In Georgia, they rose by 72%. Midwives who assist with home births typically see clients from prenatal appointments through after childbirth, providing more postpartum checkups than most new mothers receive.

Home births make up nationwide. In the eight states where they were most common in 2024 — Hawai‘i, Idaho, Montana, Pennsylvania, Utah, Vermont, Wisconsin, and Wyoming— they made up 3-5% of births.

As that number rises, midwifery advocates said, regulating the practice with licenses would allow home births to be safer. Free birth — without the help of a skilled professional before or after labor — can be .

“People are going to keep having their babies at home, and they deserve a trained provider,” said Missi Burgess, president of the Georgia chapter of the National Association of Certified Professional Midwives.

For decades, professional midwives have been advocating for laws to legalize and regulate their profession. More lawmakers have supported those efforts in the past 15 years, with 36 states and Washington, D.C., allowing them to get licensed to deliver babies. Last year, a wave of state lawmakers — in Georgia, Mississippi, Nebraska, New York, North Carolina, Ohio, and West Virginia — tried to add their states to the list, although none of their bills has become law.

Certified professional midwives deliver babies in homes or birth centers. Rather than attend nursing school — which many can’t afford — they earn a nationally recognized certificate by attending at least 55 births and demonstrating their knowledge. Nurse-midwives more often deliver babies in hospitals or clinics than in patients’ homes.

Some hospitals and doctors oppose midwife licensing proposals without certain guardrails. The American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists showing that infants are twice as likely to die during planned births at home or in birth centers as in hospitals, while acknowledging that the data remains limited. It doesn’t account for several factors, including who assisted in the birth.

Still, prominent stories of home births with midwives gone wrong contribute to the skepticism around licensing laws. In 2023, The Washington Post of a licensed midwife who pleaded guilty to felonies in Virginia after an infant death and assisted with home births in Maryland in which two more babies died.

In Mississippi, a bill that would have regulated and licensed professional midwives died after a state senator blocked a vote in the committee he chaired. Democratic Sen. Hob Bryan he didn’t “wish to encourage that activity.”

But midwives said they have a sympathetic ear now in the Trump administration, with its Make America Healthy Again movement. Cassaundra Jah, executive director of the , said she has been on calls with midwifery groups pushing for the Department of Health and Human Services to provide legal protections for them, and some midwives have been in contact with the agency.

HHS spokesperson Emily Hilliard declined to comment on policy proposals but told Ñî¹óåú´«Ã½Ò•îl Health News that the administration “regularly meets with a wide range of stakeholders to hear input from the American public.”

Hospitals Want Guardrails

Advocates for the license say allowing certified professional midwives to provide care would help address a shortage of maternity care providers.

“Some midwives are leaving our state,” Rep. , a chiropractor who sponsored the Georgia bill, said during a hearing on the measure last year. “They’re being forced to quit. And now we have a shortage of these providers to take care of our pregnant moms.”

A by the March of Dimes found that 35% of counties in the U.S. have no birthing facility or obstetric provider. Georgia has the 13th-highest maternal mortality rate in the nation, according to the .

After the U.S. Supreme Court’s reversal of Roe v. Wade in 2022 eliminated federal protection for abortion, six-week abortion bans prompted more providers to leave states such as Georgia and Texas. Idaho lost by December 2024, two years after its abortion ban took effect. Doctors who left states with such laws cited fear of prosecution and an inability to provide the standard of care.

Of the 13 states with the fewest maternity care providers per capita, nine had a full or six-week abortion ban as of 2024, .

Licensing midwives won’t solve the larger maternity care shortage, but it’s a first step, said , a professor of midwifery and the principal investigator at the Birth Place Lab at the University of British Columbia. Certified professional midwives currently attend only about 1.4% of births in the U.S., according to federal data.

The would have granted certified professional midwives licenses through a state board, allowed them to administer lifesaving medications, and required their services to be covered by private insurance and Medicaid. They would not have needed a physician to supervise them. Without that mandate, giving birth outside of a hospital could be an option for more people.

But the Georgia Department of Public Health and the Georgia Hospital Association opposed the licensing bill, primarily because they wanted more regulations than the midwives were willing to accept — including physician supervision.

Anna Adams, a spokesperson for the hospital association, suggested establishing transfer agreements that required all women planning to have a home birth to register at the hospital first. When a laboring woman is transferred to a hospital, which happens in about , “we have no prior knowledge of this patient,” Adams said. “It’s a tricky situation to inherit when you’re trying to save the mother and the baby without any background.”

Georgia midwives said they planned to bring the licensing proposal back next year.

In early April, three midwives for restricting their ability to practice, arguing that the rules violate the state constitution.

“Every pregnant person should be able to choose where they give birth and with whom,” said Jamarah Amani, a plaintiff in the lawsuit and co-founder of the .

Black women are three times as likely to die during or after childbirth as white pregnant patients. In January, a prominent Black nurse-midwife in South Carolina died after unexpected complications from childbirth.

Today, midwives and their clients are predominantly white, but the home birth rate among Black women rose 42% nationally from 2019 to 2024, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.

“Ultimately the system has failed us as a people,” said Tina Braimah, a Black nurse-midwife who attended home births for a decade. She then opened a in North Carolina, allowing her to see more clients from a variety of backgrounds. “When the system consistently fails you, you look for other options.”

Becoming Part of the System

Many maternal health researchers say mothers fare better when midwives are a key part of the health system. In 2018, researchers at the Birth Place Lab published a study of all 50 states showing that integrating midwives was associated with better outcomes for moms and babies, including lower rates of infant deaths. Integration involves collaboration among all kinds of midwives and doctors so that patients can easily transfer to or from a hospital. It also involves giving all midwives the authority to practice the full range of their skills, including prescribing lifesaving medication.

A by the National Academies of Sciences, Engineering, and Medicine states that data from other countries suggests home births can be as safe as hospital births for low-risk women who are part of an integrated, regulated system.

Washington state has one of the highest rates of in the U.S., according to the . Its home birth rate is consistently higher than the national rate, while its remains lower than the national average.

One in 5 women report being mistreated during maternity care, according to a . Pregnant patients tend to be more satisfied when midwives lead their care, whether at a hospital, a birth center, or home.

Hannah Haynes gave birth to her first three children in a hospital near her home in Jefferson, Georgia. During the third labor, which was induced, she received a catheter that led to a urinary tract infection and then sepsis, a life-threatening condition. She was separated from her newborn for four days while receiving treatment.

“Something has to change,” Haynes said.

Haynes regrets electing to get induced when it wasn’t medically necessary. She gave birth to her fourth child at home, with the help of a certified professional midwife she trusted. She’s pregnant with her fifth and plans to use the same midwife. She said she won’t deliver at a hospital again.

“I was a little nervous,” Haynes said, because she had heard rumors that midwives didn’t know what they were doing. But after meeting the midwife, “I just felt so confident in her.”

This article first appeared on Ñî¹óåú´«Ã½Ò•îl Health News and is republished here under a .

“They’re the folks that work at restaurants. They’re the teacher’s aides,” said Starr, a registered nurse who became Open Door’s chief executive more than six years ago. Those patients, he said, are “really the heart and soul of rural America.”

He said if his remote health centers don’t get a share of the billions of dollars Congress earmarked to transform health care in rural America, patients may soon lose services. About 50% of Open Door’s 60,000 patients are on Medicaid, the joint state and federal insurance program that, together with the related Children’s Health Insurance Program, covers with low incomes or disabilities.

When Congress approved the One Big Beautiful Bill Act last summer, it cut nearly $1 trillion from Medicaid over the next decade. Now, Starr hopes the $50 billion Rural Health Transformation Program, which was part of the same bill, will help keep his patients covered.

Yet, small community health care providers, such as Open Door, may find they are sharing the billions with an army of corporate giants before it reaches their patients.

Months after federal leaders announced that all 50 states won first-year awards, ranging from $147 million for New Jersey to $281 million for Texas, state plans reveal that a heavy dose of prescribed spending will go to companies that can increase the use of electronic health records, strengthen cybersecurity, and improve state and health system technology platforms.

And at least four large-scale coalitions of companies are now pitching multipronged services to the states. Many of the companies already work with regional health systems and states through Medicaid contracting or mobile and telehealth operations.

How those services will help improve the health care of rural Americans at places such as Open Door remains an open question.

States Stare Down Reporting Deadlines

Federal regulators were “really interested in seeing digital health investments” when they crafted the five-year rural health program rules last year, said Maya Sandalow, an associate director at the Bipartisan Policy Center, a think tank based in Washington, D.C. She co-authored a recent report on how the 50 states plan to invest in technology, including modernizing health care infrastructure and expanding virtual care options such as telehealth and remote patient monitoring.

“The rural health fund isn’t really designed to directly replace or offset the lost Medicaid funding,” Sandalow said, noting that the federal staffers in charge of the program — money that could help rural hospitals and clinics pay for patient care — at 15% of the total funding awarded to a state.

Federal regulators also established tight reporting deadlines, forcing states to move quickly.

States must file progress reports and obligate all first-year funding , according to the Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services, the federal agency overseeing the program. States could see their awards decreased or terminated at any time if they fail to follow federal requirements, according to the .

As of early April, CMS had not approved or had only partially approved some state budgets, including those of Wyoming, Colorado, and Vermont, according to state officials. CMS spokesperson Catherine Howden, who declined to say which states still needed revised budgets approved, said the agency does not provide “state-by-state updates.”

In Alaska, the budget is approved but the state has not announced when it will release full grant proposals and awards, said Tricia Franklin, program coordinator for Alaska’s rural health transformation.

“Early summer was the target,” Franklin said. But the response from vendors and applicants has been “much greater than expected, so it may take us a little longer.”

Working with consulting companies is an established way for states to “quickly and effectively” meet federal deadlines and roll out grant money, said , national director for population health at the Milbank Memorial Fund, a nonprofit focused on state health policy work.

Upgrading Technology, Modernizing Rural Health

Science Applications International Corp., a Fortune 500 government contractor, pulled together the . SAIC does a variety of technology work such as cybersecurity and engineering support. The alliance also includes Walgreens and Mission Mobile Medical, which turns RVs into primary care clinics. A data analytics company, a telemedicine and software company, and a company that helps place medical graduates in health systems are also part of the coalition.

The SAIC alliance offers “an ecosystem” of companies that can coordinate the work states have promised, said , SAIC’s Rural Health Transformation Program lead and a former chief information officer for the Virginia Department of Health. Each of the companies has representatives focused on the rural program, he said.

A lack of digital infrastructure — such as electronic health records at different clinics and hospitals that can talk to one another — has been a consistent barrier for rural medical care teams, said the Bipartisan Policy Center’s Sandalow.

“The funding hasn’t always been there in order for rural areas to create the infrastructure that’s needed to fully adopt remote patient monitoring, telehealth, artificial intelligence in ways that will really be supportive,” Sandalow said. “It takes things like updating infrastructure, changing workflows.”

Sandalow’s found that Maine and Utah are investing in cybersecurity; Indiana, Missouri, and New Mexico plan to modernize their electronic health records; Oklahoma plans to buy hardware and software, subsidize subscriptions, and give technical support to rural providers; and states such as Arizona and South Carolina will use funds to create telehealth hubs or buy remote patient monitoring equipment.

Federal regulators, when creating the rural program’s spending rules, also said no more than 5% of a state’s total funding awarded could be used to replace electronic medical records systems that already meet federal standards. Sandalow said that means states will focus on enhancements and upgrades to their current systems.

Gainwell Technologies, which operates the systems for dozens of state Medicaid programs, is spearheading . Rushil Desai, a Gainwell senior vice president, said states’ detailed spending plans are “changing in real time.”

Maine’s Medicaid plan contracts with Gainwell, and the state’s initial application listed four contracts worth more than $16 million over five years for the company. The state confirmed it has received federal approval for only its first year of spending, which includes a to implement changes to the state’s Medicaid claims system.

James Lomastro, a senior-care advocate in rural Massachusetts with the nonprofit , said he worries that large vendors and health systems will get the state’s transformation dollars.

Clinics, home care agencies, and nursing homes that “actually provide day-to-day support in the community are mostly on the margins” of state discussions about how to spend the money, he said. A spokesperson for Massachusetts’ Executive Office of Health and Human Services, Olivia James, said state officials would “ensure that everyone has a seat at the table” with training, financial incentives, and direct investments.

Arizona’s rural fund budget, which is $167 million for the first year, allocates for medical diagnostic equipment and technology upgrades, including to electronic health records, specifically for rural health care facilities.

But it also for county public health departments, said Pima County Public Health Director Theresa Cullen. The approved budget includes up to $4 million for grants to support community health workers.

“In these rural communities, you need to be present,” Cullen said.

Alina Czekai, director of the CMS rural health transformation office, said her team plans to visit all 50 states. She spoke at the National Rural Health Association’s policy conference in Washington, D.C., in February and told the audience that her team wants “the money to go to rural communities, rural providers, rural patients.” The association’s members include rural hospitals and clinics, which are expected to suffer big losses under the Medicaid cuts.

In California, Open Door’s Starr said he provided input on his state’s initial application, which won $234 million in first-year funding, but he is not clear on what the next steps will be for getting money from the program.

For his patients, Starr said, money is needed for technology upgrades. After all, he said, updated electronic health systems could operate seamlessly and store the documentation needed to keep a patient enrolled in Medicaid.

Updated technology could be exactly what Open Door and other area clinics need to “help keep people covered,” Starr said.

Ñî¹óåú´«Ã½Ò•îl Health News senior correspondent Phil Galewitz and rural health care correspondent Arielle Zionts contributed to this report.

This article first appeared on Ñî¹óåú´«Ã½Ò•îl Health News and is republished here under a .

And CEO Brad Meyer fears times will soon get worse for the clinic and its 21,000 patients. That’s because Nebraska is set to become the first state to require certain Medicaid enrollees to work or lose their coverage under new rules in President Donald Trump’s One Big Beautiful Bill Act.

“This will have a huge financial impact on us,” Meyer said. On May 1, seven months before the law requires, the state will begin imposing work requirements on eligible adult Medicaid enrollees.

Most of Bluestem’s patients are covered by the government program for people with low incomes or disabilities. Meyer estimates up to 15% of them may be kicked off Medicaid, which could cost his center about $600,000 a year. That could mean cutting services or staff.

Nationwide, about 17,000 federally funded community health centers like Bluestem . They’re bracing for fallout from the law Trump signed last year, which could cost the nonprofit health centers $32 billion collectively over five years, according to the Commonwealth Fund, a health research foundation.

Health centers receive annual federal grants but depend on Medicaid reimbursements for patient care as their largest source of revenue. The government insurance program covered about half of their roughly 33 million patients in 2024.

Commonwealth estimates that 5.6 million patients of health centers will lose Medicaid coverage over the next decade as most states enact work requirements — a provision of Trump’s law that requires nondisabled enrollees to work, volunteer, or perform another approved activity for at least 80 hours a month.

Most are expected to lose coverage not because they don’t work but because of paperwork errors, like failing to document their hours or verify that they qualify for an exemption.

Health center officials say there’s no easy way to make up for the lost revenue other than cutting staff or services, which would affect all their patients. The cuts will coincide with an expected increase in patients, as people who lose coverage turn to the clinics for low-cost care.

By law, health centers are required to treat all patients regardless of their ability to pay.

A Double Whammy

Overall, about 10 million fewer Americans will have insurance by 2034, the Congressional Budget Office estimates, both because of Trump’s law and congressional Republicans’ decision to scale back premium subsidies for Affordable Care Act health plans.

“We are incredibly worried,” said Jeffrey McKee, CEO of Community Health Centers of Burlington in Vermont. His clinics treat about 35,000 patients a year, nearly a third covered by Medicaid.

He predicts a surge in uninsured patients will cost another $3 million in lost revenue. That revenue crash could imperil street medicine programs and home care for patients 65 and older, he said.

In 2024, community health centers because of rising costs and the expiration of covid pandemic-era relief funds, according to a KFF analysis.

Centers with high rates of uninsured patients typically struggle more financially, while some centers are sustained through private donations.

People without insurance — who made up about 18% of all health center patients in 2024 — pay on a sliding scale. Those amounts are a fraction of what insurers pay.

The new Medicaid work requirements apply to Washington, D.C., and 40 states that expanded Medicaid eligibility under the ACA, and to adults with incomes up to 138% of the federal poverty level — $22,025 for a single person this year.

Republicans say the work requirements will nudge people into the workforce and help preserve Medicaid for children and people who are pregnant or have disabilities. Studies by KFF and others show most enrollees already work, go to school, or have a health condition that prevents them from working.

Nebraska Is First Up

The Trump administration approved Nebraska’s early launch of its work requirement program, which could affect about . State Medicaid officials say they plan to use state and national databases to check whether people are already working or meeting an exemption so that most won’t have to do anything to keep coverage. But thousands will need to prove they satisfy the requirements.

At Bluestem in Lincoln, Meyer worries many of his Medicaid patients won’t take the steps needed to keep coverage.

Angelisa Corum, 57, said she loves the care she has gotten from her regular doctor at Bluestem Health over the past dozen years, particularly in dealing with breast cancer. “I am cancer-free, and they helped me get through that,” she said.

She said the care was the same when she was covered by her husband’s commercial insurance through his employer and when she was on Medicaid while he wasn’t working.

The work requirements are just one part of the Republican law passed last year that could hurt the health centers. It also requires more frequent eligibility checks for adults enrolled under Medicaid expansion, which advocates say could also lead people to lose coverage. Many states now require eligibility checks only once a year.

The law also reduces overall federal Medicaid funding to states, which may prompt them to cut reimbursements to centers and other health providers.

The National Association of Community Health Centers, the largest advocacy group for the clinics, has tried to walk a tightrope, warning about impending cuts from the law while still working with the Trump administration. The group praised Congress for increasing base grant funding for health centers in the federal budget approved in January.

Kyu Rhee, CEO of the national association, said the clinics enjoy strong bipartisan support in Washington despite the Medicaid cuts.

He has met with Trump administration officials to discuss how health centers can play a role in keeping people from losing coverage due to work requirements. He said they can help meet other priorities of the administration’s, like improving American diets, expanding primary care, and focusing on chronic diseases — though it’s unclear how any of that would result in more funding.

To further show the reach of health centers, the association recently funded a study that found 52 million people visited the clinics over a three-year-period. “It makes a statement we serve a lot more Americans than those from just a single year,” Rhee said.

Health center officials are hopeful they will get some of the funding from the included in the GOP-passed law. States will begin spending the first tranche of that money this spring.

Rhee said he is encouraged that states will have technology to help tap into databases to verify many enrollees’ work status or health conditions to meet “medical frailty” rules that could help them avoid being disenrolled.

Others are less optimistic.

“Health centers are bracing for a major financial impact,” said Sara Rosenbaum, a health law and policy professor at George Washington University and Medicaid expert who co-authored the Commonwealth Fund study. “The way they cope is the same way health systems usually cope as they go through mass layoffs, site closures, and service reductions.”

Amanda Pears Kelly, CEO of Advocates for Community Health, a trade group representing 52 health centers, said health centers are also worried about rising costs, especially for prescription drugs. The impending financial challenges will make it more difficult to hire staff both in rural areas where doctors and nurses are scarce and in more populated areas, where competition for workers is more acute, she told Ñî¹óåú´«Ã½Ò•îl Health News.

“The challenge is health centers are being hit from every direction,” Pears Kelly said.

This article first appeared on Ñî¹óåú´«Ã½Ò•îl Health News and is republished here under a .

State governments rely on such companies to design and operate computer systems that assess whether low-income people qualify for Medicaid or food aid through the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program, commonly referred to as food stamps. Those state systems have a history of errors that can cut off benefits to eligible people, a Ñî¹óåú´«Ã½Ò•îl Health News investigation showed.

These benefits, provided to the poorest Americans, can mean the difference between someone obtaining medical care and having enough to eat — or going without.

States are now racing to update their eligibility systems to adhere to President Donald Trump’s sweeping tax and domestic spending law. The changes will add red tape and restrictions. They are coming at a steep price — both in the cost to taxpayers and coverage losses — according to state documents obtained by Ñî¹óåú´«Ã½Ò•îl Health News and interviews.

The documents show government agencies will spend millions to save considerably more by removing people from health benefits. While states sign eligibility system contracts with companies and work with them to manage updates, the federal government foots most of the bill.

The law’s Medicaid policies will cause to become uninsured by 2034, according to the nonpartisan Congressional Budget Office. Roughly will lose access to monthly cash assistance for food, including those with children.

In five states alone, for state officials and reviewed by Ñî¹óåú´«Ã½Ò•îl Health News show that changes will cost at least $45.6 million combined.

“This is a pretty big payday,” said Adrianna McIntyre, an assistant professor of health policy and politics at Harvard’s T.H. Chan School of Public Health.

The law, which grants tax breaks to the nation’s wealthiest people, requires most states to tie Medicaid coverage for some adults to having a job, and imposes other restrictions that will make it harder for people with low incomes to stay enrolled. SNAP restrictions began to take effect in 2025. Major Medicaid provisions begin later this year.

Documents prepared by consulting company Deloitte estimate that a pair of computer system changes for Medicaid work requirements in Wisconsin will . Two other changes related to the state’s SNAP program will cost an additional $4.2 million, according to the documents, which for the Wisconsin Department of Health Services.

In Iowa, changes to its Medicaid system are expected to cost at least $20 million, , a consulting company that operates the state’s eligibility system.

Optum — which operates the platform Vermont residents use for Medicaid and marketplace health plans under the Affordable Care Act — to evaluate and incorporate new health coverage restrictions.

Initial changes in Kentucky, which has had a contract with Deloitte since 2012, . And in Illinois, will cost at least $12 million.

A Historic Mandate

For six decades after President Lyndon Johnson created the government insurance program in 1965, Congress had never mandated that Medicaid enrollees have a job, volunteer, or go to school.

That will change next year. The tax and spending law enacted by Trump and congressional Republicans requires millions of Medicaid enrollees in 42 states and the District of Columbia to prove they’re working or participating in a similar activity for 80 hours a month, unless they qualify for an exemption. The CBO projected, based on an early version of the bill, that 18.5 million adults would be subject to the new rules — .

Vermont Medicaid officials expect it will cost $5 million in fiscal 2027 to implement changes in response to the federal law, said Adaline Strumolo, deputy commissioner of the Department of Vermont Health Access. About $1.8 million is for Optum to make eligibility system adjustments. Optum is a subsidiary of UnitedHealth Group.

The One Big Beautiful Bill Act will subject nearly 55,000 Vermont Medicaid recipients to work requirements — about a third of the state’s enrollees.

The law forced the state “to essentially drop everything else we were doing,” Strumolo said in an interview. “This is a big, big lift.”

Optum’s contract with the state was as of October.

of adult Medicaid enrollees nationally are already working, according to KFF. Advocacy groups for Medicaid recipients say work requirements will nonetheless cause significant coverage losses. Enrollees will face added red tape to prove they’re complying. And eligibility systems already prone to error will have to account for employment, job-related activities, and any exemptions.

An estimated 5.3 million enrollees will become uninsured by 2034 due to work requirements, the .

In Wisconsin, state officials estimate could lose coverage after work requirements take effect. Not covering those people would in Medicaid spending for one year.

Wisconsin’s eligibility system for Medicaid and SNAP — known as CARES — in 1994, and initially was a transfer system from Florida, according to a 2016 state document.

Deloitte submitted its cost estimates for Medicaid and SNAP changes to the state in September and December. Elizabeth Goodsitt, a spokesperson for the Wisconsin Department of Health Services, declined to answer questions about whether additional changes will be needed, how much it will cost to make all eligibility system changes to comply with the new federal law, and whether the state negotiated prices with Deloitte.

Bobby Peterson, executive director of the public interest law firm ABC for Health, said Wisconsin has invested “very little” to help people navigate the Medicaid eligibility process, which soon will become more difficult.

“But they’re very willing to throw $6 million to their contractors to create the bells and whistles,” Peterson said. “That’s where I feel a sense of frustration.”

New Hurdles for Vets and Homeless People

Medicaid work requirements are only one change required by Trump’s tax law that will make it harder to obtain safety-net benefits.

Starting in October, the law prohibits several immigrant populations from accessing Medicaid and ACA coverage, including people who have been granted asylum, refugees, and certain survivors of domestic violence or human trafficking. Beginning Dec. 31, states must verify eligibility twice a year for millions of adults — doubling state officials’ workload. And the law restricts SNAP benefits by requiring more adult recipients to work and by removing work exemptions for veterans, homeless people, and former foster youth.

Days after Trump signed the bill in July, Kentucky health officials raced to make changes to the state’s integrated eligibility system, which verifies eligibility for Medicaid, SNAP, and other programs. Deloitte operates the system under a five-year . , initial changes costing $1.6 million were labeled a “high priority” and approved on an “emergency” basis, with some of the changes to the nation’s largest food aid program going into effect almost immediately.

Officials with Kentucky’s Cabinet for Health and Family Services declined to answer a detailed list of questions, including how much it will cost to make all the modifications needed.

Deloitte spokesperson Karen Walsh said the company is working with states to implement new requirements but declined to answer questions about cost estimates in several states. “We are delivering the value and investments we committed to,” Walsh said.

In most states, government agencies rely on contractors to build and run the systems that determine eligibility for Medicaid. Many of those states also use such computer systems for SNAP. But the federal government — that is, taxpayers — to develop and implement state Medicaid eligibility systems and pays 75% of ongoing maintenance and operations expenses, according to federal regulations.

“Five, 10 years ago, I’m not sure if you would hear much mention of SNAP from a Medicaid director,” Melisa Byrd, Washington, D.C.’s Medicaid director, said in November at an annual conference of Medicaid officials. “And particularly for those with integrated eligibility systems — as D.C. is —­ I’m learning more about SNAP than I ever thought.”

The federal law was the topic du jour at last year’s gathering in Maryland, held at the Gaylord National Resort and Convention Center, the largest hotel between New Jersey and Florida.

Consulting companies had taken notice. Gainwell, an eligibility contractor and one of the conference’s corporate sponsors, emblazoned its logo on hotel escalators. Companies set up booths with materials promoting how they could help states and handed out snacks and swag.

“Conduent helps agencies work smarter by simplifying operations, cutting costs and driving better outcomes through intelligent automation, analytics, and innovation in fraud prevention,” read one such handout from another contractor. “Together, we can better serve residents at every step of their health journeys.” Conduent holds Medicaid eligibility and enrollment contracts in Mississippi and New Jersey, their Medicaid agencies confirmed to Ñî¹óåú´«Ã½Ò•îl Health News.

In handouts, Deloitte touted its role in “building a new era in state health care” and as “a national leader in Medicaid program and technology transformation, building a strong track record across the federal, state, and commercial health care ecosystem.” Ñî¹óåú´«Ã½Ò•îl Health News found that Deloitte, a global consultancy that generated in revenue in fiscal 2025, dominates this slice of government business.

“With Medicaid Community Engagement (CE) requirements, states are tasked with adding a new condition of Medicaid eligibility to support state and federal objectives,” added another brochure. “Deloitte offers strategic outreach and responsive support to help states engage communities, lower barriers, and address access to coverage.”

A $20.3 Million Bill in Iowa

Before Trump signed the One Big Beautiful Bill Act, Iowa lawmakers wanted to impose their own version of work requirements. They would have applied to 183,000 people before any exemptions. The new law would necessitate a change to Iowa’s Medicaid eligibility system, according to documents prepared by Accenture, which operates Iowa’s system through a .

Adding the ability to verify work status would cost up to $7 million, . By July, the cost to implement the One Big Beautiful Bill Act’s work requirements and other Medicaid provisions . Accenture’s analysis said the federal law necessitated . Making employment a condition of Medicaid benefits could cause an estimated 32,000 Iowans to lose coverage, according to a

Cutting 32,000 people from coverage in one year, a fraction of the Iowa and the federal government spend on Medicaid in a given year.

In Cedar Rapids, most of Eastern Iowa Health Center’s patients rely on Medicaid, CEO Joe Lock said. He questioned the government’s logic of spending tens of millions of dollars on a policy to remove Iowans from Medicaid.

Most of the health center’s patients live at or below the federal poverty level — currently .

“There is no benefit to this population,” Lock said.

Danielle Sample, a spokesperson for Iowa’s Department of Health and Human Services, did not answer questions about how much it will cost to implement changes to the state’s separate SNAP eligibility system.

In Illinois, the state’s work this year is largely focused on meeting major provisions of the One Big Beautiful Bill Act. The state estimates that as many as 360,000 residents could lose Medicaid, largely due to the work requirements, said Melissa Kula, a spokesperson for the Illinois Department of Healthcare and Family Services.

Kula confirmed that — priced at $12 million — is related to Trump’s law. The estimate also mentions other work. Kula said Deloitte is charging the state a $2 million fixed fee related to work requirements.

The Trump administration has acknowledged that the work is coming at a cost. In January, top officials for the Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services said government contractors, including Deloitte, Accenture, and Optum, have and reduced rates through 2028 to help states incorporate system changes.

“The companies were extremely excited to do this,” , the top CMS Medicaid official. “Everyone’s really focused on getting to work.”

CMS spokesperson Catherine Howden declined to answer questions about the discounts.

Goodsitt, the Wisconsin Medicaid spokesperson, declined to answer questions about whether Deloitte has discounted its rates. Officials with Kentucky’s Cabinet for Health and Family Services did not answer a detailed list of questions, including whether Deloitte extended discounts to make these changes.

It’s unclear what discounts, if any, Deloitte and Accenture have offered to individual states. Walsh, the Deloitte spokesperson, declined to answer detailed questions about the discounts the Trump administration announced this year. Accenture did not respond to repeated requests for comment.

Strumolo, the Vermont health official, said state officials discussed the announcement with Optum “in detail.”

Optum for a specific module related to Medicaid work requirements. That product is unworkable for Vermont because it would mean “moving to a new system when we don’t have to.” When asked about whether the company offered discounts, Strumolo said “not explicitly.”

In a statement, UnitedHealth Group spokesperson Tyler Mason said Optum supports state implementation of new federal requirements “with a range of options to meet their unique cost and policy needs.”

He declined to specify whether Optum discounted Vermont’s rates and how it calculated the costs of doing its work. “Optum is helping mitigate upfront implementation expenses so states can focus on approaches that reduce duplication, accelerate implementation, and manage costs over time — supporting better outcomes for individuals covered by Medicaid,” Mason said.

Strumolo said Optum’s initial changes in Vermont cover items that take effect this year and in 2027 — Medicaid work requirements, checking eligibility every six months, and prohibiting certain immigrants from qualifying for health programs.

“There’s a lot more that could come,” she said.

This article first appeared on Ñî¹óåú´«Ã½Ò•îl Health News and is republished here under a .

The legislation would prohibit state and local governments from requiring crisis pregnancy centers to perform abortions, provide referrals for abortion services, or inform patients about such services or contraception options. It also would allow crisis pregnancy centers to sue the violating government entity.

Wyoming lawmakers of the Center Autonomy and Rights of Expression Act, or , on March 4. Other versions have advanced in and this year. One was in 2025. The CARE Act is “model legislation” created by the , an anti-abortion, conservative Christian legal advocacy group.

A similar proposal, the , was introduced in Congress last year but hasn’t moved out of the House Energy and Commerce Committee.

The Wyoming bill says that pregnancy centers, many of which are affiliated with religious organizations, need legal protection after facing “unprecedented attacks” following the Supreme Court’s overturning of Roe v. Wade. It says that several state legislatures have introduced bills that . Opponents of these centers say they falsely present themselves to consumers as medical clinics, though they are not subject to state and federal laws that protect patients in medical facilities.

“Across the country, government officials are increasingly, increasingly targeting pregnancy care centers,” Valerie Berry, executive director of the in Cheyenne, said at a February legislative hearing on the Wyoming bill. “This legislation is not about creating division. It’s about protecting constitutional freedoms, freedom of speech, and freedom of conscience.”

Wyoming state , a Republican, expressed concern at the hearing about granting protections to pregnancy centers that other private businesses do not have.

“They have protections in place,” he said. “My issue with this is giving extra special protections.”

In 2022, Wellspring Health Access, the only clinic in Wyoming that provides abortions, in an arson attack.

“We are the ones providing the accurate information on reproductive health care, and we suffer the consequences for that,” Julie Burkhart, the president and founder of Wellspring Health Access, told Ñî¹óåú´«Ã½Ò•îl Health News.

, a professor at the University of California-Davis School of Law, said the proposed legislation would insulate crisis pregnancy centers from having to meet the standards that medical organizations face. It would blur the line between advocacy and medical practice, she said. And such legislation provides Republicans with a potentially useful campaign message ahead of midterm elections.

“The GOP needs a messaging strategy as for how it cares about women even if it bans abortion and even if it doesn’t want to commit state resources to helping people before and after pregnancy,” Ziegler said. “The strategy is to outsource that to pregnancy counseling centers, which of course increases the incentive to protect them.”

Model Legislation

The Alliance Defending Freedom is the same group that , the 1973 court ruling that protected the right to abortion nationwide. The group drafted model legislation to establish a 15-week abortion ban that was the basis of a 2018 Mississippi law. That led to the Dobbs v. Jackson Women’s Health Organization Supreme Court case that overturned Roe.

The alliance said its attorneys were unavailable to comment on the organization’s strategy for the CARE Act. In for the bill, the group said federal, state, and local efforts are targeting pregnancy care centers in a “clear attempt to undermine and impede” their work and shut them down.

In recent years, have been targeted with vandalism and threats.

But the attacks the model legislation primarily aims to address are the legal and regulatory efforts by some states seeking more oversight of the crisis pregnancy centers, including a California law requiring centers to clearly inform patients about their services. That law was overturned when the Supreme Court ruled in favor of crisis pregnancy centers’ argument that it violated their First Amendment rights.

The Supreme Court is that will decide whether states can subpoena the organizations for donor and internal information.

It’s unlikely that crisis pregnancy centers would face such regulatory measures in the conservative states where the legislation is under consideration. One Wyoming lawmaker acknowledged that in the February committee hearing.

Differing Services

During that hearing, state , a Republican who heads the committee sponsoring the bill, presented the measure as “so important, especially with our maternity desert,” referring to a lack of access to maternity health care services.

Some crisis pregnancy centers may have a few licensed clinicians, but many do not. Many offer free resources, such as diapers, baby clothing, and other items, sometimes in exchange for participation in counseling or parenting classes.

Planned Parenthood clinics, by contrast, provide a range of health services, such as testing and treatment for sexually transmitted infections, primary care, and screenings for cervical cancer. They also are regulated as medically licensed organizations.

Since Roe was overturned, the abortion rights movement has faced significant challenges. Congressional Republicans’ One Big Beautiful Bill Act, which President Donald Trump signed into law last summer, to abortion providers. The move contributed to Planned Parenthood closing last year.

As of 2024, operated nationwide, according to a map created by researchers at the University of Georgia, compared with providing abortions at the end of 2025.

a research organization affiliated with the anti-abortion nonprofit SBA Pro-Life America, has suggested that pregnancy centers could help fill the gap left by the Planned Parenthood closures.

Ziegler said that would leave patients vulnerable to medical risks.

Centers’ Growing Power

Previous efforts in , Colorado, and Vermont to regulate crisis pregnancy centers arose from concerns over allegations of and questions about .

In 2024, in five states to investigate whether centers were misleading patients into believing that their personal information was protected under the Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act, known as HIPAA, and to find out how the centers were using patients’ information.

Courts, including the Supreme Court, have regularly that argue the attempts at regulation are violations of their First Amendment rights to free speech and religious expression.

Crisis pregnancy centers also have seen a flood of funding since Roe was overturned.

At least , including crisis pregnancy centers, according to the Lozier Institute.

Six states distribute a portion of their federal Temporary Assistance for Needy Families funding — cash payments meant for low-income families with children — to crisis pregnancy centers. Texas, Florida, Tennessee, and Oklahoma have provided tens of millions of dollars for the organizations.

One analysis found that crisis pregnancy centers also received from 2017 to 2023, including from the 2020 relief package signed into law during Trump’s first term amid the covid pandemic.

Despite the challenges clinics that provide abortions face, Burkhart, the head of the Wellspring facility in Wyoming, said it’s important to continue offering access to people who need it. She’s helped open clinics in rural parts of other conservative states and said those clinics continue to see people walking through their doors.

“That proves to me, regardless of your religion, political party, there are times in people’s lives that people need access to qualified reproductive health care,” she said. “That includes abortion.”

This article first appeared on Ñî¹óåú´«Ã½Ò•îl Health News and is republished here under a .