THE TEXAS EXODUS

Amid stringent abortion laws, ob-gyns are fleeing the state.

- STEPHANIA TALADRID

Dr. Tony Ogburn helped build a residency program. Last year, it collapsed.

LETTER FROM THE RIO GRANDE VALLEY

Eight months after the fall of Roe v. Wade, Vanessa Garcia lay on a hospital table in Texas's Rio Grande Valley, as a technician performed an ultrasound. Garcia had given birth to two children with no complications, but her third pregnancy seemed alarmingly different. The ultrasound revealed that her placenta was covering her cervix-a condition, known as placenta previa, that heightened her risk of hemorrhage or preterm birth.

Garcia was referred to a maternal-fetal expert at D.H.R. Health Women's Hospital, in Edinburg, Texas, and began going in for weekly ultrasounds. She approached the visits as an opportunity to catch a glimpse of her daughter, whom she had named Vanellope. Before driving to appointments, she got in the habit of drinking half a gallon of water, hoping that it would contribute to a clearer image. During scans, she gazed at the monitor, watching raptly when Vanellope lifted her hand to her eyes, as if gently rubbing them.

At the start of her second trimester, Garcia returned to the hospital and followed a now familiar routine, uncovering her belly and resting on a table. On this visit, though, the technician kept moving the probe across her skin for an unusually long time, without ever turning the monitor to face Garcia. Then she rose and left the room, without saying a word.

Alone, Garcia couldn't resist examining the images. The baby was curled into a ball, looking eerily still. Instinctively, Garcia snapped a photo and texted it to her husband, Erick Escareño, a manager at a supermarket chain. He was checking inventory as he opened the text and told himself, "This isn't real." Then a doctor walked in and informed Garcia that her daughter's heart had stopped.