Ann and her husband had been trying to have a baby for months. After a few false hopes, another pregnancy test gave the Indianapolis couple the good news: their first child was on the way.
They named her after a Grateful Dead song: “Althea.”
On hikes at Fort Harrison State Park, they talked about what life would be like for their new little family. Ann was sure her baby already loved music; she could feel kicks when songs came on. Her husband imagined how their child would love nature, too.
All seemed well until the 20-week ultrasound.
Althea’s kidneys weren’t visible. Tests showed she wasn’t developing them — or lungs. Doctors said she wouldn’t live more than a few hours or days.
The couple faced an impossible choice: terminate the pregnancy or risk complications waiting for the inevitable end. Their case highlights how Indiana’s near-total abortion ban is forcing women to jump through hoops for care — including when they have unexpected, serious complications later in pregnancy.
“I didn’t want her to know pain,” said Ann, 29, who is not being fully named for fear of harassment. “With all her genetic problems, we would’ve just had to watch her die.”
But in December 2025, doctors at Riley Hospital downtown couldn’t help. Their hands were tied by state law. There’s an exception outlined for lethal fetal anomalies — but the decision has to be made before 20 weeks post fertilization. It took time for testing to confirm their baby’s birth defects; doctors told the couple it was too late.
A few days after Christmas, they got in the car and drove four hours for an appointment in Chicago.
‘Wanted, but too sick to live’
Abortions have fallen sharply since Indiana’s near-total ban went into effect in 2022.
In the last year the procedure was legal through the second trimester, the state tracked about 8,400 terminated pregnancies in its annual report. In 2025, there were just 126 abortions reported to the Indiana Department of Health.
All fell within the state’s narrow exceptions: rape or incest; saving the mother’s life; or a fetal anomaly that will cause death within three months after birth.
That’s what happened in Ann’s case. Genetic testing later confirmed triploidy — a rare condition where a fetus has an entire extra set of chromosomes. It is not compatible with life and causes congenital heart defects, abnormal brain development and kidney disease.
After Ann’s pregnancy was terminated, the staff gave her a print of the baby’s feet to remember Althea by, pictured on May 11, 2026, at Fort Harrison State Park in Lawrence. The feet are pictured amid greenery along a walking path in Fort Harrison State Park, a path Ann and her husband would take whenever a life-altering situation occurred.
The vast majority of triploidy cases end in miscarriage.
“It was already rare that I was able to carry her for so long,” Ann said. “It was incredibly unsafe.”
Triploidy can also put a mother at risk of hemorrhaging and preeclampsia, a dangerous blood pressure disorder that damages organs.
“I could’ve died or lost the ability to have children,” Ann said, her eyes welling.
The couple didn’t want to wait in Indiana for things to get worse. Doctors helped them schedule an appointment in Illinois, where abortion is legal up to 26 weeks in pregnancy. The state has become a primary access point in the Midwest.
Hotel rooms were booked for the procedure. Vouchers for food and gas were offered.
After the trip, Ann started thinking about the women facing unplanned pregnancies, and those who can’t afford to travel or take off work.
“Having my choice taken away to have care here in Indiana was bad enough,” she said. “Nobody should be allowed to take that choice away from someone.”
“They recommended that we terminate because they said it would have been dangerous for me to continue to carry her, and that the outcome would have been the same. Either way, she was going to die. So it was, you know, to have her never know a moment of suffering, or watch her die slowly.”
— Ann
She’s sharing her story in hopes that the Republican supermajority in the state legislature will see the ban they passed also affects crisis pregnancies like hers.
“They’re making it more dangerous for all pregnant women,” Ann said. “My baby was wanted, but too sick to live.”
Althea
At the abortion clinic in Illinois, Ann had a two-day procedure.
Her husband waited anxiously at a nearby coffee shop. He wasn’t allowed in the room.
All the research shows triploidy is random. There’s no association with the parent’s age or medical history.
“We did the doctor’s appointments and the genetic testing. We did everything we could,” Ann’s husband said. “And unfortunately, we just lost the genetic chance.”
In the end, there was no death certificate. Ann left the clinic with one remnant: a blue sheet of paper with a tiny pair of footprints.
On the drive home, they listened to the song “Althea.” Ann Googled the name and found new meaning: their daughter was a “healer of wounds.”
Three months later, Ann was pregnant again. Doctors said everything looks healthy.
“It’s bittersweet, because we miss Althea,” Ann said. “This is our rainbow baby.”
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Mirror Indy reporter Mary Claire Molloy covers health. Reach her at 317-721-7648 or email maryclaire.molloy@mirrorindy.org. Follow her on X @mcmolloy7.
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