7 Women Journalists on Protecting Their Mental Health While Covering Abortion Access

Can you describe your initial reaction to learning the news of Roe v. Wade’s reversal on June 24?

As a reporter who covers this stuff, I’ve been preparing for Roe to be overturned for several years now, but there’s sort of no preparing for the loss of bodily autonomy like that. I went straight into reporter mode. My editor and I got up the pre-write that I’d been writing and rewriting for months, and then I remember just sort of staring at my computer and being like, “I don’t know what else to do.”

For the next week, I was on the ground here in Tennessee and in Alabama. I think it took a minute to hit me, all that was happening, as a person. . . . I will also say as a reporter, almost every interview that I’ve had since the decision, the person who’s been on the phone with me has cried. I’m used to doing pretty emotional interviews, but this has been a uniquely emotionally taxing beat to be on.

What has it been like reporting on abortion, an issue that so intimately impacts women?

Particularly as a woman living in the South, it’s been hard. Before this, I was in California, but I’m from [the South] and the pandemic was really clarifying to me that it was time to come home and really invest in my community here and do reporting in the region that I care the most about . . . It’s been weird coming to terms with how in Tennessee right now you can’t get an abortion past six weeks. We have a 30-day period before a trigger law goes into effect banning abortion outright.

I’m seeing all this out in real-time, but now I’m also having these really serious conversations with my husband about: What do we want to do? Do we want to have children? Do we want to take steps to make sure that we can’t have children? And I have to say, I really resent being put in this position where I’m having to have those conversations and try to make those decisions because of the government and not on my own terms, in the midst of covering this and talking to people who are in situations that are far, far, far worse than what I’m dealing with.

It’s kind of surreal, going back and forth from trying to be this professional, composed person who’s focused on the story, to having to think about this from a personal point of view and being the person that all of my friends come to because they’re freaked out, too. They’re like, “What the f*ck am I supposed to do?”

Is there an abortion-related story you’re proudest of reporting on?

In 2019, I wrote a cover story for Mother Jones about the young woman who was a college student at Mississippi and had to go to Arkansas to get abortion care. The reason I have such feelings about that story is because it’s what ultimately got me my book deal. . . . It was this whirlwind where I went from Little Rock to Jackson, MS, and I had been really struggling with identity, partly as a reporter at a national outlet where most of the people come from a very, very different class background and regional background than I do. That was the story that kind of reaffirmed to me that I still am who I am and I’m still Southern, and this is still where my heart is. I think it also helped me make the decision to move back here and do the work from the South.

Is there anything else you’d like people to know about what it’s like to be a woman journalist right now?

I think a lot of women and people of color have dealt with this in newsrooms when we’re covering the fallout of some loss of our rights or human rights abuses based on gender or skin color or whatever it is. There’s this pressure to seem like it’s not getting to you, to seem like you’ve got it all together and that you can see the issues clearly and that you can handle it. It feels like there’s this extra layer of people watching you to make sure you can handle it, to make sure you’re not too weak.

I’ve really struggled with that, not only with repro stuff, but also reporting on sexual assault, that kind of thing. . . . I should also say I’m in a very privileged position in a lot of ways. I’m a white woman. I’m cisgender. There are a lot of things about my identity that protect me more than other people. I just want to recognize that we’re having a conversation within that context.

In what capacity have you been covering the Supreme Court’s decision to overturn Roe v. Wade?

My focus has been to look at the intersectional impact of the overturn. I’ve been especially concerned with looking at how it affects poor women, how it affects black women, how it affects other people of color, and trying to get a sense of why this is going to harm certain communities more, and how we need to make sure that the language that we use around this is as inclusive as possible. I’ve learned so much about how this is an issue that’s going to impact so many different pockets and groups of people.

Also just digging into the numbers to try and understand why certain groups of people are going to suffer more. Why is it that, according to the data we have, Black women are the people who are getting abortions at a disproportionately higher rate? A lot of it has to do with poverty. A lot of it has to do with a lack of sex education. A lot of it has to do with a lack of access to contraception. And then there’s a whole host of other issues as it relates to maternal mortality as well.

Can you describe your initial reaction to learning the news of Roe v. Wade’s reversal on June 24?

While yes, we had the draft opinion, it still didn’t sting any less when it actually came down because then things got a little bit more real. Interestingly, when the leaked draft opinion came down, I was actually going in for fibroid surgery the next day. . . . It was just so crazy being with gynecologists and thinking about my own health in that moment and about how the decision would open the door to so many more restrictions on women’s bodies.

I feel like with my personal medical history, I could definitely be someone who ends up in a situation where I have an ectopic pregnancy or some other scary situation where abortion would be medically necessary. Having to already deal with something so serious but then also knowing that there are legislators out there who would want to make this even more difficult is such a very scary thing. By the time things happened in June, it still hurt a lot, especially because there are a lot of people in my life who have had to have abortions, and I was thinking about them, and I was thinking about my own health as well.

What has it been like reporting on abortion, an issue that so intimately impacts women?

It further solidifies that journalism is usually never this objective thing that people want it to be. . . . When I’m calling clinics in Alabama to try to understand what it was like when the decision came down, and them having to turn away people who were scheduled for abortions, I feel empathy, and I think that it’s OK for me to let that guide my reporting.

In a word, what emotion comes to mind when you think about reporting on the overturn of Roe v. Wade?

Maybe vexation. I interviewed Dorothy Roberts, and she talked about how she was doing this kind of work in the ’80s and ’90s, watching the connection between abortion and poverty, who the government was willing to support, and how abortions weren’t available to poor people because of the Hyde Amendment. I just feel vexed; having less rights than people in generations before, that’s a scary thought.

Have you been doing anything to protect your mental health the past few weeks?

I think a lot of it is just talking to fellow reporters about how they’re doing, talking to other people in my life about how they’re doing. For me, talking about it makes me feel better, so being able to find community and people who are also feeling a way about this.

Also pushing the newsroom to think about these stories in a way that feels humane and actually thinking about the language and words we’re using, and being careful when we tell people’s stories. And then therapy, of course. I remember having a conversation with my therapist when all of this happened. As with any event, there’s so much weight there and so much that you have to process. As reporters, we don’t get two weeks to write news stories; you need to hop on them immediately. I’ve been figuring out ways to step away and to not have to be processing through the context of work.

What has it been like reporting on abortion, an issue that so intimately impacts women?

It’s incredibly difficult. It’s incredibly taxing. And at the same time, I’m very aware that it’s also a privilege to be able to communicate my thoughts on this and to have access to the platforms that I have in part built, but also that I’ve been able to get access to.

I think the hardest part for me is that I feel so sad and hopeless, but I cannot show it because I know that if I show it, then it will impact how other people feel. In a way, I kind of feel like the flight attendants when there’s turbulence who are just actually there to pretend everything’s OK, to keep everyone from throwing up. The flight attendant that has to smile, and has to focus on making sure that people feel at ease and hopeful about the future. Because if we’re not, it’s the best gift that we can give conservatives and people who are anti-abortion and who are making these laws. . . . and it’s very hard to focus on [other] work that I need to do when I constantly feel like there’s so much that needs to be done in terms of delivering information to people on this.

What’s your take on journalistic bias in situations like these? Do you think it’s possible to remain unbiased while reporting on abortion access as a woman?

I think we don’t understand what bias means and what objectivity means. I think the whole idea of objectivity in journalism is actually a myth. We all have subjectivity; we’re all subjects living our lives, seeing the world through our own experience, and that’s the most valuable thing that a journalist can do. Objectivity is not listening to both sides and giving them equal airtime – it’s getting to the truth about all of the sides of an argument and all of the people who are affected by it and how they’re going to be affected in their own unique way. So I resist this binary approach to any issue, but particularly to objectivity in journalism.

If you are a female journalist, you’ve been called biased. If you are a Black journalist, you’ve been called biased. If you are a trans journalist, a disabled journalist . . . all of the marginalized identities, they’ve all been told they have an agenda. But my agenda from the very beginning has just been to tell the truth. As long as that’s what you’re doing, you’re being a great journalist.

At the same time, I think it’s important to listen to people who are happy about Roe being overturned and understand why they’re happy. There are some journalists who are actually listening to what people who are anti-abortion want, and they’re providing really useful information for how progressives or women’s rights activists can approach the conversations they’re having with people who are anti-abortion. I’m seeing a lot of people share posts or talk about abortion in a way that would probably make sense to a person who has identified as pro-life their entire life, and maybe in that moment will be reached because of the way that the message is framed, because they’re not being shamed. They’re not being discounted. They’re not being talked down to. They’re actually being listened to.

I think it’s important to frame those conversations in a way that is, again, truthful and in a way that doesn’t give credence to people saying things that aren’t true. But I also think there’s actually a lot of use in listening to the other side.

Have you been doing anything to protect your mental health the past few weeks?

One thing that I find really helpful is talking to older generations of women who have been through this. My parents were very politically engaged in their youth, so I often will call them and they’ll remind me that progress is a squiggly line and that there are many moments that feel like we’re going not one step forward, two steps back, but one step forward, 10 steps back. And that’s actually a normal part of organizing. They’ll remind me also that we all will probably not see the fruits of our labor in the way that generations of activists never really got to see how much their work impacted society. That helps me not focus on the outcome, but just focus on the process.

What else do I do? I mean, wine has been helpful, and being kind to myself in every possible way: exercising, anything that can prevent me from being on my phone. My nervous system is affected by all of this and already on edge all the time, so I’ll do a lot of different body relaxation, body work, breath work techniques. Stretching sometimes.

Do you find that it’s possible to disconnect from the news cycle as a reporter who’s so plugged in?

I find it really difficult to disconnect, but I also feel like it’s important that I do. If I run myself to the ground, I won’t be available and be my most productive and come up with my best ideas. Activist burnout is a real thing. I think anti-abortion politicians are a really big problem, but the burnout of the progressive movement is an equally urgent problem for us to address and for us to think about. It’s really important we remember that we’re in community: When you are resting, someone else is working, and while they’re resting, you’re working.

Is there anything else you’d like people to know about what it’s like to be a woman journalist right now?

Please be nice to a female journalist today and just be nice to another person today. There’s not one job that’s more important than another. We forget in a society that creates hierarchies, but everyone’s job is valuable and important. It’s just a good time to be nice to the people around you because you don’t know what battle they’re fighting. We all need everyone to be happy and healthy in order to have a good society that can support people in this really difficult time.

Can you describe your initial reaction to learning the news of Roe v. Wade’s reversal on June 24?

I was at my desk here in my house in Orlando, watching SCOTUSblog and. . . . someone said, “There’s a one-in-eight chance Dobbs [v. Jackson Women’s Health Organization] comes today.” And then maybe 10, 20 seconds after that, the notification comes up. Once I read on my screen that Roe and [Planned Parenthood v.] Casey had been overturned, I took a pause because it was almost unbelievable to be reading that on a screen. We knew it was coming. We expected it was going to stay the same as what we had read in the draft decision. And we were prepared. But just to see it, I had to take a pause and take it in. I took my glasses off and just looked at it for a while. It was truly still shocking in the sense that we were reversing 50 years of precedent.

For us at The 19th, we had been talking about this for such a long time. This is a central coverage piece for us. It’s the largest breaking news event that we will probably ever cover. It’s hard to get into “go, go, go” mode right away when you see something like that, so I had to take a second to process. And then I changed tabs and looked at our spreadsheet on clinics and said, “OK, which ones am I calling?”

What has it been like reporting on abortion, an issue that so intimately impacts women?

As a woman, as a journalist, all these identities are layered. I’m also 34 weeks pregnant, and that adds another layer for me too. In a way, I’m feeling fortunate that I’m pregnant right now as this is happening because it helps give me a new frame of reference for the kind of conversations we’re having with folks, in terms of the questions I’m asking. I also had two miscarriages last year, so I understand how complicated pregnancy is, how difficult pregnancy is, how difficult it is to become pregnant, how many things can go wrong. Having all of that going into this has made me understand it on a level that I think I wouldn’t have otherwise.

There are all these different identities that inform this work now and make it feel more critical. It feels like one of the most important stories I’ll ever cover as a person who could be directly affected by some of these decisions. That makes you so much more invested in all of the work and doing it right and doing folks’ stories justice. It’s been an emotional time.

In a word, what emotion comes to mind when you think about reporting on the overturn of Roe v. Wade?

Overwhelming, of course. It’s like the fire hose is nonstop, from the moment it happened to the foreseeable future for us. The laws are complicated and nuanced in every state, and trying to keep track of all that is difficult, so it’s just a constantly changing mass of chaos.

What’s your take on journalistic bias in situations like these? Do you think it’s possible to remain unbiased while discussing abortion access as a woman?

I think the conversation about bias in journalism has evolved. There’s this sense that journalists have to equally serve both sides of an issue in order to maintain this appearance of no bias, but do both sides require equal attention? I cover a lot of racism in economic institutions – do both sides require equal representation of their thoughts? With something like that, no.

We are all, as human beings, biased, and as journalists, we are also human beings. All people have their own thoughts on whatever the news of the day is. But can they then produce work that is fair to the story? Not necessarily to both sides, but fair to the story, fair to the truth? I think the answer is yes, we absolutely can do that, and we have continued to do that without this strict idea that journalists can have no bias. The reality is that our stories are better because we lean into the experiences that we have to help inform the work. It’s what I was talking about with being pregnant while doing this. I don’t want to set that side of myself apart from this because it helps me understand the story in a way that I otherwise would not understand it, and it gets me closer to the truth.

Have you been doing anything to protect your mental health the past few weeks?

This is a tough question because there’s a sense of it feeling very overwhelming, but at the same time, very critical and important, so you kind of get in this mode of going nonstop. I feel like, what could be more important for me to do than this? In the first couple of days and hours, it felt like everything else could be tabled for this, so in a sense, I haven’t thought about what I need to do to take a break because it doesn’t feel like there is an opportunity to take a break yet. There’s so much that we need to focus on. But I have tried. I went to the beach last weekend with my dog and my husband, and we tried to just stare out at the ocean.

It’s hard to find the time to think about myself when I’m having conversations with people who are talking about depths of despair that are hard to wrap your head around – people who have been sent home after sitting in a clinic lobby expecting to receive their abortion that day and then called back three days later and being told, “Actually, we can see you now.” And clinics that are wondering whether they’ll be able to stay open. And other people who are facing the reality of a world that they are not familiar with, that they’ve never lived in, which is a world where Roe is not there.

I feel very fortunate that I get to write about their stories and that they trust me with those stories, and I really want to be doing that.

In what capacity have you been covering the Supreme Court’s decision to overturn Roe v. Wade?

One of the first stories we wrote was when the Politico leak dropped. . . . I’ve only been on the beat since January because prior to this, I was an education reporter in Richmond. I wrote a story that was centering on how whatever happened with Dobbs was always going to affect Georgia and what it means for Black people. The second story I wrote was about how 65 percent of abortions in 2019 in Georgia were made up of Black women. I was just surprised to learn that, and then thinking of the circumstances that put Black women and Black folks in that position to need an abortion, whether it’s finances or high-risk pregnancy.

The last story we wrote pretty recently was about how the Atlanta City Council tried their best to defy the overturn of Roe v. Wade. . . . My colleagues Margo [Snipe] and Sydney [Sims] did a really great job centering how this is going to affect Black people because that’s our entire mission: analyzing how certain things have an effect on Black people. Abortion is one of those topics across the country, but especially in Georgia.

Can you describe your initial reaction to learning the news of Roe v. Wade’s reversal on June 24?

I was interviewing someone else for a different story, and I had to cut our interview short. We were wrapping up, but I just said, “Hi, I actually have to hop off the phone because I just found out that Roe v. Wade was overturned.” We knew that a decision was coming, so we were really prepared. I didn’t really have an initial reaction other than “I need to get to work.”

No matter what your position on it is, I think you’re going to have a moment where you realize it’s really remarkable because abortion is one of the most controversial topics in the nation. I’m 26 years old. When I was born, the decision of Roe was about two and a half decades old. It’s just something to be living in moments that you know will eventually be in history books. What has it been like reporting on abortion, an issue that so intimately impacts women?

They tell you to detach yourself from the reporting as much as you can. While I think to a certain extent, that’s a valuable moral, I also think that my own identity as a Black queer woman shapes how I choose to report and who I choose to talk to. I’m from Georgia and I just moved back from Richmond, so coming back into the state during a time when abortion is the front-and-center issue, it’s been interesting. But also knowing that Black women, that Black working people, are almost three times more likely to die than white women from pregnancy is really alarming to hear. It’s also alarming to center in your reporting, to talk to people who know people who have died from pregnancy.

With abortion, there’s been a statistic going around that overall, if abortion is outright banned, there would be a 21 percent increase in maternal death. But for Black women, it’s 33 percent. That’s also really scary to hear. So of course, as you’re reporting, you wonder, “Is it appropriate for me to have kids? Is it something I’m willing to risk my life to do?” It’s that feeling of wondering how your life will be altered based on decisions that politicians are making.

Have you been doing anything to protect your mental health the past few weeks?

I’ve been unplugging as much as possible. Skating has been really helpful too. . . . I’ve really been immersing myself in Atlanta skate culture. It’s a really, really good community to be a part of. I’ve met some amazing and principled people. I skate every Friday night at my favorite rink, and it’s gotten me out of the house. . . .

I have a cat, his name’s Derek. He’s another thing that helps with my mental health, just having something to take care of. I got him because I was dealing with a lot of anxiety during the George Floyd protests. I think a lot of Black journalists were.

Is there anything else you’d like people to know about what it’s like to be a woman journalist right now?

I just hope they give us grace. Journalists are some of the most important people on the planet . . . because without fair journalism, democracy would be dead. Being a woman, but not just any woman – being a Black woman and being a queer woman and being a woman who has disabilities – I’m in a particularly special place, and I can look at things from a really unique point of view that opens even Black people’s eyes to different worlds. I do hope that people can just give us grace because it can be tiring out here.

We’re not robots. We have emotions. I hope that people really understand that. In a time where things are just going haywire all of the time, whatever emotions you feel, imagine someone who’s literally on the front lines asking officials, “How are you going to fix this?” For journalists, I just really hope that we are all doing our best to protect our mental health. All this matters, but your life also matters.

Can you describe your initial reaction to learning the news of Roe v. Wade’s reversal on June 24?

I wasn’t surprised because I had covered the leak of the draft opinion. There really wasn’t time to have a lot of feelings because a lot of things changed almost immediately. The day of, after reading the opinion, I also covered the defense by the liberal justices, so I had to get that up right away. But after that, it’s really been about covering how people are affected and talking to patients, both current and former, as well as doctors and providers and activists.

What has it been like reporting on abortion, an issue that so intimately impacts women?

It’s been super sad, but one of the reasons I chose to do this work was because I knew how important bodily autonomy was to me. I knew I wanted to report on that story. It’s really heartbreaking, but it’s also just time to keep going.

What’s your take on journalistic bias in situations like these? Do you think it’s possible to remain unbiased while discussing abortion access as a woman?

I don’t think it’s possible for anyone to remain unbiased because bodily autonomy and the legal issues in the Dobbs decision will affect everyone’s lives regardless of sex or gender presentation. I think everyone has to come to terms with what the makeup of the Supreme Court is and what the decision could mean for everyone’s future. There’s no one who will not be impacted by the legal ramifications of this eventually if the Supreme Court’s decision is upheld and built upon in future legal decisions and arguments.

PS: Is there an abortion-related story you’re proudest of reporting on?

I really enjoyed my colleague Gabrielle Bruney’s feature on the history of abortion that we published on the 4th of July. It was just really smart and engaging. I’d really urge everyone to read it. As far as myself, I wrote an essay called “You Are Not Owed a Reason for Somebody’s Abortion.” It’s about bias as a journalist, bothsideism, and all of the abortion patients I’ve talked to over the years and their experiences.

What has it been like reporting on abortion, an issue that so intimately impacts women?

Covering this beat, I talk to people in a lot of difficult situations. . . . Many women I’ve talked to, they’re very, very confident of their choice, but it’s happening because either a pregnancy went wrong, a tragic diagnosis, or it just wasn’t the right time to have a baby. I don’t think anybody goes looking to have an abortion. You’re talking about something very personal, sometimes emotional, sometimes connected to really loaded topics like family, relationships, love, sex, religion, and health. It can be a really wrenching subject to cover sometimes.

To do this kind of work, you have to be empathetic and compassionate, and I try to convey as much openness to the people I talk to. They’re doing our listeners and me a favor to tell their stories, which are very personal and private. I’m very aware of that. As a human, I walk away from those interviews feeling for them. . . .

I have personal conversations with women I know who are wondering how this might affect them if they’re trying to get pregnant and something goes wrong. All of that put together, you feel things. I’m a woman, and I’ve had two children. I know very intimately what it feels like to be pregnant, to worry about a pregnancy, and just to be in a woman’s body. Again, I feel for the people that I talk to, and like any emotional subject that we cover as journalists, of course, it affects you.

What’s your take on journalistic bias in situations like these? Do you think it’s possible to remain unbiased while discussing abortion access as a woman?

I think that we, as an industry, have come to realize in the last few years that everybody brings their life experience, their identity, their personal history, and their personal feelings to their reporting. I don’t think it’s reasonable to ask anyone, regardless of what issue they’re reporting on, to leave all of that at the door. We’re all human beings. In fact, I think you’re a better reporter if you’re a human being.

The question is not, “Do you have an opinion about an issue?” because everybody does. The question is, “Can you report thoughtfully, thoroughly, and fairly?” That doesn’t mean always giving equal weight both sides of every issue. . . . I think it’s really important to try and understand why people bring different points of view to these issues, particularly like abortion. A lot of my coverage is focused on some of the religious and ideological underpinnings and some of the public debate around that. I think being curious about the whole spectrum of thought is important for covering it well and accurately.

Is there an abortion-related story you’re proudest of reporting on? I reported back in October, not long after SB 8 took effect in Texas, on concerns I was hearing from the medical community about what that would mean for the ability of care providers to treat patients in emergency situations. I think that prediction clearly has turned out to be the case. We’ve heard from many, many healthcare providers who have seen, and are seeing patients in horrific situations – everything from rape victims to medical emergencies – and are finding themselves with an increasingly difficult set of choices or no choices. My colleague Carrie Feibel and I have both reported on situations in Texas that match exactly what doctors predicted, which is patients experiencing miscarriages of unviable pregnancies and unable to get a termination, which is in line with the standard of care. . . .

The other one would be a story from about three years ago that I did about the rise of self-induced abortion. People were not talking about it at that time nearly as much as they are now, but it was something that was emerging as something that advocates were interested in and we’re hearing more and more about it now. I always feel good when my reporting spots something before it’s widely discussed. Not to say that I was the first person to report on either of those, but those are both subjects that we’re hearing a lot more discussion of today than we were when I was reporting on them originally.

Is there anything else you’d like people to know about what it’s like to be a woman journalist right now?

Anything that intersects with your identity in some way can be especially loaded and emotionally taxing to cover, but I also think it’s important. . . . For me, I’m really grateful that I’m a woman, and that I can sit in a doctor’s office with women, and talk about pregnancy with a lot of firsthand knowledge, as well as head knowledge. So many of the people I talk to for these stories are women – both patients and activists and advocates. . . . This is an issue where gender does matter, and there’s a different kind of a connection between women when you’re deep in an issue like this. I think it’s helpful to me as a reporter.