There were fast food joints, sports bars, casual restaurants offering every cuisine you could imagine.
Just nowhere, seemingly, to buy a birthday cake.
Emma and her husband, Zach, kept going.
Emma pregnant with her third child
Because they had to, even though at 24 weeks of pregnancy, Emmas gait had changed.
Emma Giglio
They found a Trader Joes.
How could it be that there was nowhere in this freezing-cold and unfamiliar town to buy a birthday cake?
Emma pregnant with her third child
They were running out of time.
At this point they just needed something.
So Emma and Zach walked back the way they came and went to Starbucks.
Emma’s ultrasound scans from her pregnancy
Inside they ordered a cake pop.
It was so small.
Was it too insignificant to celebrate a birthday with?
Emma and her husband, Zach, at home in South Carolina
To honor a life with?
It would have to do.
Emma got herself a chai tea latte.
“I’ve always been pro-choice, but I never knew that termination after 20 weeks was even a thing.”
She had consumed so much chai tea this pregnancy, it felt fitting.
She grasped the latte and the cake pop, clad in its waxy little envelope.
A group of five womensister senatorsDemocratandRepublicanbanded together to fight to protect abortion rights.
“We’ll never know what happened to him,” Emma says.
That same month Emma Giglio got pregnant with her third child.
By June 2024, all three of the GOPsister senatorshad been voted out of office.
Emma pregnant with her third child
Emmas ultrasound scans from her pregnancy
All of Emmas pregnancies were different.
An outfit that Emma bought for her son
But that didnt mean she couldnt guess for fun.
Her symptoms were all over the place and had no correlation from one baby to the next.
During this pregnancy she craved orange juice.
She drank a ton of it, something shed never done with her two older sons.
Any other differences, though, were unremarkable.
She was probably more tired, sure.
“We knew that there were only a few places that saw people beyond 30 weeks,” Emma says.
She and Zach already had two sons at home.
Plus, thats how the Giglios rolled.
They were adventurous; they took risks.
Following the end ofRoe v. Wade,photographer Maggie Shannon spent a year visiting the Partners in Abortion Care clinic in Maryland, the same one that Emma Giglio visited for her abortion. These images are not of Emma, but many patients agreed to let Shannon capture what happened during their terminations.
He saw my picture and was like, There she is, says Emma with a smile.
Then she jokes, And then, yeah, my reaction wasnt quite the same when I saw him.
But soon she was similarly head over heels.
A formative experience came in high school, when she traveled with an exchange program to India.
That led her to the study of Mandarin, then to China, and then to Zach.
The next year they were engaged.
Emma and Zach searched a long time for a physical place to plant roots.
But Emma and Zach were serious.
They stayed in Airbnbs in different areas to get a feel for various neighborhoods.
Siya’s footprints sit beside those of his brothers’.
And once they arrived, they found themselves in a neighborhood chock-full of fellow East Coast transplants.
It wasnt really a big part of my life until it had to be, I guess.
Until it affected me.
Its very rare for us to meet someone whos actually from here, she says.
Thats like a joke in Charleston: Wait, youre from here?
As forabortion rights, Emma never gave them much thought.
I was very naive.
I didnt pass judgment on a week deadline or anything.
I felt like it should just be up to a person to choose what they want to do.
So I dont know.
I was never really following it closely.
It wasnt really a big part of my life until it had to be, I guess.
Until it affected me.
Ive always been pro-choice, but I never knew that termination after 20 weeks was even a thing.
Maybe she just had normal pregnancy nerves.
The technician started the scan, and then a senior tech came in.
Then she kept going.
I was like, This is taking very long.
This is the longest scan Ive ever had, Emma recalls.
The technician left, consulted with the doctor.
She came back in.
The doctor wanted her to rescan a few areas, she said.
At this point they had been there two hours.
Emma thought it was okay, but Zach just had a feeling.
Then five people walked into the room.
The junior technician, the senior technician, a genetic counselor, a doctor, and a nurse practitioner.
They told Emma that they saw multiple anomalies in her baby.
Well never know what happened to him, Emma says.
As the results of the testing began to come backnegativeEmma began to feel slightly more hopeful.
The day before Christmas a batch of new results came into the online portal.
Emma looked, and within a sea of reassuringnegatives, she saw one line.
The sex of the fetus: male.
The baby was to be their third boy.
It was good news in that everything was negative, she says.
Because some of the results were confusing, they went down a Google rabbit hole.
We were like, We need a doctor to explain these to us.
What does this mean?
Is this a good thing?
Eventually, at the end, the doctor told us to read between the lines, Emma recalls.
They knew the right thing to do would be to terminate.
Then, finally, the day of the scan came.
Everything was not fine.
The same organs impacted, plus now the liver and extremely low levels of amniotic fluid.
The baby might not make it to term with so little fluid to breathe.
The prognosis was grim, and confounding.
All those tests led nowhere.
There were no genetic diseases to explain what had ravaged their little boys body, no clear answer.
Well never know what happened to him, she says.
They equated it to us being struck by lightning.
Emma and Zach had a choice to make, one they agonized over.
They consulted Emmas ob-gyn and saw specialists.
They had two options.
Doctors they consulted had brought up the alternative.
And they said, If that was an option for you, you cant do that here.
You wouldnt be able to do that here.
They couldnt stop asking questions.
Some were more practical.
Would their baby walk?
How many surgeries would he need after birth?
Internally the couple were grappling with more existential questions.
How could they best parent this baby?
What quality of life would he have?
Was the life he would live be a life worth living?
What was the best thing for him?
An outfit that Emma bought for her son
At this point Emma was 22 weeks pregnant.
It was a cold reality hitting both the Giglios and their physicians.
If youre a doctor, you have to have a heart for your patients, she says.
Thats why youre practicing medicine.
You could do it and you could help me through this immediately, but I was forced away.
Emma had been through a lifes worth of trauma the past few weeks.
And now she saw how much more she would be forced to endure.
Emma had to endure two more weeks in a pregnant body, one that kept growing.
They really shouldnt, but people just cant help commenting on a baby bump.
Emma would be at the gym and people would stop her to ask her when she was due.
Another reminder that her baby wouldnt live.
Where do you want to go?
Emma says her ob-gyn had asked her when they first discussed termination as an option.
They started searching in New York and Maryland, two states where Zachs family lives.
What happened next Emma describes as logistical trauma.
Every step felt like a knife to the gut.
Having to call and say the words I want an abortion.
When Emma wanted to scream, I want this baby.
Even when I think back on it now, it feels like an out-of-body experience.
I still sometimes feel like, How did this happen to us?
It doesnt feel real.
The procedure itself cost $7,500, and its not covered by health insurance.
They just came in and said, Well take care of this.
You just focus on yourself and your family.
We are holding you and weve got you, Emma says, through tears.
Emma was blown away by the fund, and their generosity.
We knew that there were only a few places that saw people beyond 30 weeks, Emma says.
Every step felt like another slap.
She was stacking meals in her fridge, making lunches, writing down her boys nap times.
Then there was packing for herself.
Because she was packing a suitcase.
I also was like, Im going to be bleeding, and Im traveling.
I dont want to be wearing white, she says.
Emma wouldnt be having a normal recovery, being monitored and checked on in a hospital postpartum ward.
Once the baby was out, she was on her own.
What should she wear to leave the hospital?
She couldnt wear a dress in Maryland in January, and besides, it just felt wrong.
She settled on a sweatsuit, in black.
Emma and Zach left on a Wednesday.
Emma just sat in the back, staring out the window.
I still sometimes feel like, How did this happen to us?
It doesnt feel real.
They boarded the plane.
Is a little Emma coming soon?
We knew there was a need for later care, she says.
And we knew that there were only a few places that saw people beyond 30 weeks.
The outside of the clinic was nondescript, save for a cheery rainbow-colored welcome mat reading Safe Space.
It wasnt until Emma had sat down in the waiting room that she felt it.
The whole situation at that moment felt incredibly unfair.
Emma was drawn to the tips for how to celebrate your babys life.
Because they knew his sex, they could choose a name.
They had batted the name around before, but this time it felt right.
He was their Siya.
Emma wanted to honor Siya and celebrate him just like any other baby.
Buy a cake and sing to him.
Tell him about his brothers, how much they loved him, and how much they would miss him.
But when Emma was finally seen, she learned they didnt have one more night.
Emma and Zach went out into the cold, feeling numb.
There wouldnt be a birthday party after all.
They would have to change their plans.
Emma was heartened to spot a Nandos, a popular South African chicken franchise, just down the road.
It felt like a sign from home.
They got lunch, searched for a cake, and bought the cake pop.
And then it was time.
It was cut short, I guess.
Then they asked if we were ready…and we said yes.
And I dont know how I did it, but I sang him to sleep.
And then theyre done.
And they say, Sorry for your loss.
Siyas footprints sit beside those of his brothers.
Its hard not to view the entire, awful experience through the lens of what-ifs.
What if they were in Summerville?
Instead, they went back to a hotel room and ate takeout.
In the morning she went back to the clinic and prepared to deliver Siya.
It would be her first vaginal delivery, something special, she thought.
As it was, he was just young enough gestationally.
Partners in Abortion Care provides a space for patients to labor together as the drugs begin to take hold.
Its a narrow room on the smaller side, with a row of big lounge chairs.
There are medicine balls and peanut balls for laboring, books and magazines, and a TV.
There are also notebooks, which the staff replaces when they get full.
Some sign their first name, others just their initial.
Emma sat in there all day, not incredibly uncomfortable but noticing as the medication began to take effect.
Around 4 p.m. Emma started bleeding.
The contractions grew strong.
She went into the room where she would deliver and then, nothing.
For the actual birth she was sedated.
What I do remember is just feeling empty.
A hotel room, I think sometimes can feel empty, and my body was feeling empty.
I didnt have my baby.
When she woke up, she and Zach made their way to a recovery room.
And then they got to meet Siya.
It was not easy, but we had the time that we had with him, says Emma.
They held him, snuggled him.
They took photos with him.
But their time was short.
They were the last patients of the day, and there was a snowstorm coming.
The staff had to go home.
They had to say goodbye.
The nurse brought Siyas blankets to Emma and Zach to keep.
As she clutched them, she felt the wrongness of it.
If she had his blankets, where was he?
And the thought of I have the blankets and he was not swaddled…, she trails off.
And now we had to leave him behind, she continues.
And then we had to get on an airplane and leave him behind.
It was the final what-if.
The final, unbearably barbaric cruelty.
She thinks she blocked a lot of that night out of her mind.
It was too painful.
What I do remember is just feeling empty, she says.
A hotel room, I think sometimes can feel empty, and my body was feeling empty.
I didnt have my baby.
All Emma wanted to do was crawl into bed and not get up for a while.
But with hindsight, she reflects on the situation she was forced into.
She thinks of everything she went through.
How can anyone think that it was just?
I dont think people understand the level of trauma that can have on a family, she says.
If people can think through the journey we had to take and understand the gravity of that.
Especially being as far along as I was.
You actually are going through the process of giving birth; you labor an entire day.
Sedated or not, your body is still working and doing all that stuff.
I dont know if people really get that.
Its been nine months.
Emma is still grieving, but shes getting by.
Telling her older son the baby had died was hard.
Her due date coming and going was hard.
Emma has had a lot of time to think about what to do now, as Siyas mom.
She can no longer parent him physically.
How does she parent his legacy?
One idea she has is sharing his story.
Siya is always with her, and she wants him to be an ever-present member of the family.
She doesnt want to stop talking about him, or put him away.
If she shares Siyas story, the people who are doing this may realize how misguided these restrictions are.
Thats not how it works.
Unfortunately, we had an experience where that wasnt the outcome for us.
This is not a black-and-white, easy issue.
This is very complex.
Now Emma thinks about Siya all the time.
So many things remind her of him.
For the rest of her life, being on an airplane will remind her.
So Emma and Zach have embraced it.
They get to the airport, find a corner bar or place a drink order once onboard.
They order mimosas, because Emma couldnt stop drinking orange juice when she was pregnant.
They drink and they toast to their baby boy.
