In the span of just a few days this August, two major stories have underscored the intensifying battles over health care policy in the United States—one unfolding in the rural mountains of Idaho, the other in the national debate over childhood vaccinations. Both stories, while seemingly worlds apart, share a common thread: the collision of medical expertise, politics, and public trust at a moment when the stakes for families and communities feel higher than ever.
In Idaho, the consequences of a near-total abortion ban enacted in 2022 have rippled far beyond the state’s political corridors. More than six months after the ban took effect, Bonner General Health in Sandpoint—a town of just 10,000—announced in March 2023 that it would no longer provide obstetrical care. The hospital’s decision, as reported by ABC News, cited Idaho’s “legal and political climate” as a driving factor. Bonner General was one of three health systems in the state to shutter their labor and delivery services in recent years, leaving pregnant women in northern Idaho facing daunting journeys for care.
The impact of the abortion ban has been stark: Idaho has lost over a third of its OB-GYNs—94 out of 268—since the law was enacted, according to a study published in JAMA Network Open. The remaining physicians are clustered in the state’s seven largest counties, leaving just 23 OB-GYNs to serve more than half a million people scattered across vast rural areas. For many, access to basic prenatal care now means driving two to three hours, sometimes in emergencies. Dr. Brenna McCrummen, an OB-GYN at Kootenai Health (the hospital that inherited many of Bonner General’s patients), told ABC News, “There have been patients that have delivered on the side of the road because they're not able to get to the hospital in time. There have been babies that have gone to the NICU who didn't do as well as they probably would have had they not had to travel long distances.”
The situation is poised to worsen. More than 350,000 Idahoans rely on Medicaid, including many covered by a 2018 voter-approved expansion. But with the passage of President Donald Trump’s tax and policy bill in July 2025, Medicaid cuts are now law. The changes could strip the state of $3 billion in federal funding over the next decade and leave 37,000 residents without coverage, according to an analysis by KFF. Idaho is also seeking federal approval for new work requirements, further tightening eligibility.
For rural hospitals, the financial calculus is grim. Labor and delivery units require expensive, specialized equipment and trained staff, and Medicaid reimbursements often don’t cover costs—especially in low-volume areas. Toni Lawson, vice president of the Idaho Hospital Association, said to ABC News, “What you'll see in Idaho, before you see hospitals close, is we'll have more closures of labor and delivery services.” She added that recruiting and retaining OB-GYNs has become nearly impossible amid the state’s abortion restrictions.
Advocates warn that these twin pressures—abortion bans and Medicaid cuts—are pushing Idaho’s rural health system to the brink. Melanie Folwell, executive director of Idahoans United for Women and Families, told ABC News, “We are living with the consequences of when you criminalize practicing medicine, you lose doctors, and I think that, coupled with these cuts at the federal level, are going to prove devastating for Idaho's already precarious rural health system.”
For patients, the fallout is deeply personal. Annual exams—essential for cancer screenings and preventive care—now require booking five months in advance. Complicated pregnancies are especially dangerous. Amy Klingler, a physician assistant in central Idaho, described how her clinic’s nearest delivery hospital is a 60-mile drive, with 45 miles lacking cell service. “So in the best circumstances, it takes planning and forethought. And then when things are serious and complicated, it's much more dangerous,” she said. “Complicated pregnancies in Idaho are the scary ones right now.”
While a state court ruling in April 2025 slightly expanded medical exceptions to the abortion ban, many providers say the law still restricts their ability to deliver emergency care. Idahoans United for Women and Families is now gathering signatures for a 2026 ballot initiative to restore abortion rights to pre-Roe v. Wade standards, but as Lawson noted, “there is no silver bullet” to fix the crisis. The state must tackle both recruitment barriers and the financial precarity of rural hospitals.
Meanwhile, on the national stage, another health care controversy is heating up—this time over childhood vaccinations. On August 19, 2025, Robert F. Kennedy Jr., a longtime vaccine skeptic and now a prominent political figure, publicly attacked the American Academy of Pediatrics (AAP) for recommending Covid-19 shots for young children aged 6 to 23 months. Kennedy accused the AAP of a “pay-to-play scheme to promote commercial ambitions of AAP’s Big Pharma benefactors,” pointing to donations from Pfizer, Moderna, and other pharmaceutical companies to the group’s Friends of Children Fund.
The AAP’s guidance diverged from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC), which in May dropped its recommendation that all children 6 months and older receive Covid vaccines. The AAP, however, maintained its stance for the youngest children, citing ongoing risks. As the group explained in a release, “COVID-19 continues to result in hospitalization and death in the pediatric population. Children younger than 2 years old are especially vulnerable to severe COVID-19 and should be prioritized for vaccination.”
The clash drew sharp words from all sides. HHS spokesperson Andrew Nixon accused the AAP of “freelancing its own recommendations, while smearing those who demand accountability,” according to POLITICO. AAP President Susan J. Kressly defended the group’s guidance as “based only in the science, the needs of children, and the care that pediatricians have for the children in every community.” She called Kennedy’s attack “unfortunate” but said the AAP was willing to meet with him, emphasizing that the group follows “rigorous conflict-of-interest disclosures.”
Despite the disagreement, both the new CDC guidance and the AAP continue to recommend Covid vaccines for children with underlying health conditions. For healthy children, parents are advised to consult with their pediatricians. Kennedy, for his part, has reshaped federal vaccine policy—ousting the CDC’s vaccine advisory panel and replacing members with vaccine skeptics, as well as rescinding $500 million in funding for mRNA technology research earlier this year.
Kennedy also suggested that AAP doctors could be exposed to liability for diverging from CDC recommendations, noting that Covid vaccines are not covered under the 1986 Vaccine Injury Act’s compensation program. Changing that system, he acknowledged, would require congressional approval.
The split between the AAP and the CDC, as POLITICO observed, highlights the depth of distrust between the medical establishment and Kennedy, who once called the Covid vaccine “the deadliest vaccine ever made.” The timing of the dispute—just as children return to school and the fall vaccination campaign begins—adds urgency to an already fraught debate.
From Idaho’s empty delivery rooms to the national tug-of-war over vaccines, these stories reveal a health care landscape under siege from political, financial, and ideological battles. For families caught in the middle, the choices are growing tougher—and the consequences, ever more profound.