Pro-Life Groups Urge Attorney General Todd Blanche to End Biden’s Mail-Order Abortion Scheme

A physician is eating dinner with her family when an encrypted message appears on her phone. A frightened 17-year-old explains that she took misoprostol, one of the medications commonly used to end a pregnancy. Four weeks later, she is still nauseated and her pregnancy test remains positive. She wants to know: Can she see a doctor without her parents finding out? Could she get into legal trouble for taking abortion pills? The physician reassures her that she can speak privately with a clinician and that she does not need to disclose how she managed her abortion. Before signing off, the teenager thanks her, the exchange calmed her down after Google search results frightened her. For growing numbers of people in America, this is what abortion care looks like today. Most discussions about abortion since Dobbs have focused on laws, courts, and clinics. But these conversations miss another transformation already underway: In a new Lancet, Regional Health Americas study, researchers analyzed more than 16,000 contacts with the Miscarriage + Abortion Hotline over two years. What they found tells a different story. Patients are increasingly seeking abortion information and medical support outside traditional health care settings. They expected Dobbs to be the turning point, as patients in states restricting care sought alternatives. But that wasn’t the case. The hotline was already growing rapidly before the Supreme Court overturned Roe v. Wade. In the year before Dobbs, contacts increased by about 10% each month even in states that did not go on to ban abortion. In states that later enacted bans, contacts were increasing even faster still. After Dobbs, overall use rose sharply, but there was no immediate surge attributable to the decision itself. That matters because it suggests that Dobbs did not create the demand for care outside traditional clinical settings. Patients had already begun reorganizing abortion care, using digital communication to find medical expertise, reassurance, and support beyond the institutions that traditionally housed it. The Miscarriage + Abortion Hotline is a free, anonymous service staffed by volunteer clinicians who answer questions by phone and text from people managing abortions and miscarriages. Patients ask questions such as where to obtain pills, whether bleeding is normal, how to manage pain, when to take another pregnancy test, or whether they need medical follow-up. Sometimes one text is enough. Other times conversations continue for days or weeks. For years, abortion restrictions had already made clinical care expensive, delayed, geographically distant, or frightening to access. Many people adapted by finding medication, information, and support through telehealth, community networks, online pharmacies, and resources like the hotline. The legal landscape has only intensified those pressures. Continuing challenges to medication abortion have created confusion about what is legal, what is safe, and whether seeking care could expose someone to surveillance or criminalization. Yet people continue to have abortions. Some travel hundreds of miles. Some obtain medications through shield-law telehealth providers. Others rely on online pharmacies or friends. Some cannot overcome the barriers and are forced to continue pregnancies against their will. As abortion care increasingly moved beyond clinics, something important did not change. People continued to seek medical advice they can trust. Our study found that before Dobbs, most hotline users contacted clinicians before taking abortion medication. After Dobbs, the largest group reached out during the abortion itself, seeking reassurance that what they were experiencing was normal. They were no longer reaching out to ask what to expect before an abortion; they were reaching out because it was already happening. Self-managed abortion has existed for generations. Today, however, technology is making it possible to build new frameworks for accessing care in ways that bypass traditional institutional structures. Meanwhile, in a separate development, acting Attorney General Todd Blanche has made clear his intention to expand abortion restrictions nationwide. During a private call before his confirmation vote, Blanche told anti-abortion activists that the Trump administration is working to make the Dobbs decision “permanent in every single state.” He acknowledged that “we don’t have complete victory yet,” but promised the faithful, “Victory will be soon and it will be permanent.” His comments suggest a broader strategy to use federal tools to override state-level decisions on abortion. Blanche’s plan includes reviving the Comstock Act, an 1873 law that prohibits mailing “things” designed to procure an abortion. While the law was largely ignored for much of the 20th century, it became relevant after the Supreme Court overturned Roe v. Wade. Under Biden’s Justice Department, legal interpretations of the law allowed for the mailing of abortion medications, provided the sender did not intend for them to be used unlawfully. Blanche has signaled his intent to revisit that interpretation, potentially opening the door to prosecuting individuals who receive or distribute abortion pills by mail. Pro-life organizations have supported Blanche’s efforts, arguing that the Comstock Act should be interpreted strictly according to its original text. They claim that the Biden administration’s interpretation creates a loophole that enables unrestricted access to abortion pills, undermining the law’s purpose. These groups argue that the law should be applied literally, focusing on the nature of the items being mailed rather than the intentions of the sender or recipient. The implications of Blanche’s potential actions are wide-ranging. Medication abortion now accounts for the majority of all abortions in the United States. Since Dobbs, mail-order access to abortion pills, dispensed via telehealth providers operating in states with legal protections (“shield” laws), has become a lifeline for patients in states with bans and the predominant way in which they end pregnancies. Shield statutes, now passed in 18 states and Washington, DC, seek to protect providers from out-of-state criminal, civil, and professional attack; eight shield states extend those protections to telehealth for mailed medication abortion. No shield law dictates what any other state does regarding its own abortion laws. But Blanche, on the call, suggested he might use the Comstock Act to challenge this system. The tension between expanding access to abortion care and enforcing restrictive laws highlights the evolving landscape of reproductive rights in the United States. As patients navigate a complex legal environment, they continue to seek trusted medical advice, often outside traditional clinical settings. Meanwhile, political figures like Blanche signal a determination to reshape the legal framework governing abortion access, raising critical questions about the future of reproductive healthcare in America.