I called from a payphone and was relieved I could get an immediate appointment. When I walked up, it was not what I had expected. It was a house, not a clinic, and the interior looked more like my Catholic living room than a medical facility: plaid couch, posters of Jesus, the “Footprints” poem. But when the woman came out from behind a door wearing a lab coat, I felt hopeful again. I was sure this “doctor” would provide compassion and guidance. I wanted to confide in her that I was in an abusive relationship that I didn’t know how to get out of, but the one thing I knew for sure is if I had a baby, I would never escape.
Article source: https://www.huffingtonpost.com/entry/fake-reproductive-health-centers_us_5b3bac71e4b09e4a8b27fc0b