Behind bars, women carry more than sentences.
They carry children. Trauma. Grief. And the weight of a system that was never built to honor their bodies.
Reproductive injustice in carceral settings is not just medical neglect—it’s institutional violence. It shows up in ways both brutal and banal:
- Feminine hygiene neglect: Pads and tampons are rationed, bartered, or withheld—turning basic health needs into power struggles. Women are forced to improvise with socks, toilet paper, or nothing at all. It’s not just unsanitary—it’s humiliating.
- Lack of prenatal and postnatal care: OB-GYN visits are delayed or denied. Vitamins, ultrasounds, and mental health support are inconsistent at best. High-risk pregnancies go unmonitored. Miscarriages are met with punishment, not compassion.
- Shackling during labor: Still legal in several states, this practice restrains women while they contract, deliver, and recover. It treats childbirth as a threat, not a sacred moment. It denies safety, dignity, and humanity.
- Separation after birth: Most incarcerated mothers are forced to part with their newborns within 24–72 hours. There’s no bonding, no breastfeeding, no postpartum support. Just grief. Just silence. And often, no counseling to process the trauma.
And when the baby is gone, the silence begins.
Few facilities offer trauma-informed counseling for mothers who’ve been separated from their children. But some do.
Programs like Motherhood Beyond Bars and Aid to Inmate Mothers (AIM) offer parenting education, reentry support, and counseling services that begin inside and continue after release. They understand that healing doesn’t start at freedom—it starts at acknowledgment.
Still She Rises goes further—defending mothers in both criminal and civil systems, challenging shackling laws, and advocating for holistic care. Still She Rises is the first holistic defense office in the country dedicated exclusively to representing mothers in both the criminal and civil legal systems. Based in North Tulsa, they offer legal advocacy, social support, and trauma-informed care—meeting women where the system failed them. Their work reframes justice through the lens of dignity, motherhood, and restoration.
There are also glimmers of mercy.
The Residential Parenting Program at Washington Corrections Center for Women allows some incarcerated mothers to live with their babies for up to 30 months. In partnership with Early Head Start, it offers developmental support for children and parenting education for mothers. It’s not perfect—but it’s a start. It recognizes that motherhood doesn’t end at booking. That bonding matters. That mercy can be structural.
To every woman who labored in chains, who lost a child to separation, who bled without care—I see you.
To every mother denied counseling, comfort, or compassion—I write for you.
To every advocate fighting for change—I stand with you.
Because mercy must include the body.
Justice must include healing.
And restoration must begin with the womb.