When the Cuts Come Home
They didn’t wait until 2028.
That’s when the most aggressive Medicaid cuts from the Trump administration are scheduled to kick in. But the ripple effects are already reaching Kentucky families—in visible, devastating ways.
This week, UofL Health announced an indefinite delay of its long-awaited South End birthing center. The Birthing Place was supposed to restore labor and delivery services to southwest Louisville for the first time since the 1970s. The building was nearly finished. The vision was clear: a community-focused facility where women could deliver their babies close to home, with culturally competent care and dignity.
Now, it’s off the table.
UofL Health leadership cited one reason: Medicaid cuts. Not theoretical ones. Not future ones. Cuts that are already making providers reconsider how—and whether—they can serve the people who rely on them most.
Let’s be clear: nearly half of all births in Kentucky are covered by Medicaid. That’s not a bug in the system. That’s the system working to make sure low-income families don’t go bankrupt bringing a child into the world.
When you pull the foundation out from under that system, what do you think happens?
This is what happens:
A $20 million birthing center built to serve underserved families gets shuttered before it even opens. The staff who were preparing to welcome new mothers—midwives, nurses, doulas—are told to stop. The people of the South End, many of whom already face transportation and financial barriers, are told once again that if they want basic healthcare, they’ll need to travel across town to get it.
And all of this? A direct consequence of political decisions made by people who will never set foot in that neighborhood. Who will never feel the sting of this loss.
This is how policy becomes punishment.
Don’t lose sight of the bigger picture.
The delay of The Birthing Place isn’t just a funding issue. It’s part of a broader agenda to erode public healthcare one inch at a time, until the only people who can access quality care are the ones who can afford to pay out of pocket.
Kentucky is one of the poorest states in the country. We are also one of the sickest. Our health outcomes, especially for maternal and infant health, are already below the national average. Medicaid exists because private insurance and market solutions have failed to meet the needs of rural communities, Black and brown families, and low-wage workers.
Cutting Medicaid in a place like this is not just short-sighted—it’s lethal.
Here’s what else you should know:
Although UofL Health is now planning to pivot the space into a Women’s Health Center, it’s unclear what services will be offered and whether the same level of prenatal and perinatal care will be available.
Metro Council had pledged $8.25 million in local matching grants to support the birthing center. Those funds are now in limbo, with no clear path forward.
Council Members like Crystal Bast and Cindi Fowler are actively seeking alternative ways to support South End residents—but this fight just got a lot harder.
So what do we do now?
We pay attention. We stay loud. We don’t let decisions like this disappear into bureaucratic silence.
Call your council members. Ask what will happen to the public dollars already committed. Ask whether UofL Health intends to fight for birth equity or quietly retreat. Ask how this fits with the broader healthcare picture across the state as the Trump administration’s agenda continues to roll out.
Kentuckians are being squeezed. By inflation, by poor leadership, by broken systems. But the Medicaid cuts aren’t abstract. They’re specific. And now, they have a name: The Birthing Place.
The next time someone tells you policy isn’t personal, tell them this story.
We have to build something better.

I’m heartbroken to read this. And mad as hell.