In recent months, the treatment of pregnant women in U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) detention centers has come under withering scrutiny, with immigrant rights organizations, medical experts, and Democratic lawmakers raising the alarm about what they describe as dangerous and inhumane conditions. On October 22 and 23, 2025, the American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU) sent letters to ICE and its director, Todd Lyons, documenting a disturbing pattern of mistreatment and calling for an immediate end to the detention of pregnant women.
These letters, supported by detailed accounts from women who have experienced ICE detention while pregnant in Louisiana and Georgia, paint a harrowing picture: shackling during transport, solitary confinement, inadequate food and water, denial of prenatal vitamins, and medical neglect leading to miscarriages and severe infections. According to Associated Press and EL PAÍS, this campaign by the ACLU is part of a broader push by Democrats and human rights groups to force the Trump administration to answer for its handling of expectant mothers swept up in the ongoing immigration crackdown.
One woman, identified only as Ana, is emblematic of the crisis. In her early twenties and six months pregnant, Ana was held at the Basile detention center in Louisiana. During her first month in custody, she did not receive the prenatal vitamins recommended for pregnant women. Despite suffering from nausea, vomiting, and body aches, the only treatment she received was Tylenol. The food provided was so unpalatable that she could barely eat, and she recounted being shackled and restrained during transport, a practice that ICE guidelines have historically discouraged. "How am I going to escape if I’m pregnant?" Ana reportedly asked an officer who considered removing her handcuffs but decided against it, fearing she would flee.
Her experience is far from unique. The ACLU’s letter describes more than a dozen cases where pregnant women were shackled during transfers, placed in solitary confinement for days, and forced to beg for basic necessities like water and toilet paper. Some women reported being denied interpretation during medical consultations, receiving care without consent, and being left to suffer dangerous infections after miscarriages. In one account, a woman suffered a "severe" infection after her miscarriage while in detention, a detail that underscores the gravity of the allegations.
Lucía, another woman whose name has been changed for privacy, arrived in the U.S. in 2025 and was released by Border Patrol with an electronic ankle monitor. Weeks later, ICE agents detained her at her home and took her to the Stewart Processing Center in Lumpkin, Georgia. Lucía did not know she was pregnant when she was taken into custody, but soon began experiencing vomiting and abdominal pain. Despite repeated requests to see a doctor, she was not examined until weeks later, by which point her pregnancy was confirmed. Two weeks after that, she suffered heavy bleeding and cramps in the middle of the night. She was not taken to a doctor until the next day and was left alone, bleeding and without food or painkillers, for hours. When she was finally transported to a hospital—still handcuffed—she learned she had miscarried and required a blood transfusion. After returning to the detention center, Lucía continued to suffer abdominal pain and bleeding for a month.
Alicia, who had lived in Louisiana for nearly a decade with her two children (one of whom is a U.S. citizen), suffered a miscarriage while detained at Basile. She underwent an invasive uterine examination without her consent and was injected with an unidentified drug. Despite her deteriorating condition, Alicia was deported in July 2025, separated from her children, and required hospitalization for a serious infection caused by her time in ICE custody.
These personal stories are backed by a growing body of evidence and concern from advocacy groups and lawmakers. The Women’s Refugee Commission (WRC) launched a tool in September 2025 to track cases of pregnant women in ICE detention, responding to what it calls a "black box" system. "This tool will bring transparency to a system that has become a black box, so we can fight for the safety and human rights of these women," said Zain Lakhani, WRC’s director of immigration rights and justice, at the launch. The WRC has received reports of pregnant detainees being denied even basic nutrition—like apples or milk—and being forced to subsist on French fries and frozen burritos, the only available food for purchase at exorbitant prices. In Honduras, WRC staff met deported nursing mothers whose bodies had stopped producing milk due to malnutrition suffered during detention.
Despite guidelines established in 2021 under the Biden administration, which restricted the detention of pregnant women to "exceptional circumstances" involving threats to national security or immediate harm, the return of the Trump administration in January 2025 has seen a reversal of these protections. According to EL PAÍS, ICE agents have resumed detaining pregnant women as part of a broader campaign to increase deportations, often ignoring the need for specialized care that detention centers are ill-equipped to provide.
Official data on the number of pregnant women in ICE custody is conspicuously absent. Since 2019, ICE has been required to report to Congress every six months on the circumstances and length of detention for each pregnant detainee. However, as of October 2025, the Trump administration has failed to provide these figures, leaving lawmakers and advocates in the dark. Senate Democrats, led by Washington State Senator Patty Murray, sent a letter to Homeland Security Secretary Kristi Noem in September 2025 urging ICE to halt the detention of pregnant women except in exceptional cases and demanding answers about oversight and the number of pregnant detainees. Their letter cited medical research linking ICE detention with high rates of pregnancy complications and highlighted "serious risks to fetal and maternal health" compounded by deteriorating conditions such as extreme overcrowding, inadequate food and water, and lack of emergency care. There has been no public response from the Department of Homeland Security.
In response to the mounting criticism, the Department of Homeland Security has defended its practices, stating in August 2025 that "detention of pregnant women is rare and has elevated oversight and review." The agency claims that pregnant detainees receive regular prenatal visits, mental health services, nutritional support, and accommodations "aligned with community standards of care." DHS further asserted that "no pregnant women have been forced to sleep on the floor," and that medical and nutritional care are provided as needed.
Yet, these official assurances have failed to quell concerns. Senator Jon Ossoff of Georgia launched an investigation in 2024, uncovering 14 credible reports of mistreatment of pregnant women in Department of Homeland Security custody, including lack of adequate medical care, untimely check-ins, denial of adequate snacks and meals, and overcrowding so severe that some detainees were forced to sleep on the floor. The persistence of such reports, coupled with the government’s reluctance to release data or allow independent oversight, has only intensified calls for reform.
As the debate continues, the stories of Ana, Lucía, Alicia, and many others serve as stark reminders of the human cost behind the statistics. With advocacy groups, medical professionals, and lawmakers demanding transparency and humane treatment, the fate of pregnant women in ICE custody remains a pressing—and deeply contentious—issue at the heart of America’s immigration debate.
