A silver lining to the celeb space launch. from The Barbed Wire.

Happy April, folks! I’m Brian Gaar, senior editor of The Barbed Wire. The wildflowers are popping, the pollen is trying to kill us, and the Wild Texas Newsletter is back with a fresh batch of stories hotter than a brisket sandwich left in the sun.

Senior Editor Leslie Rangel gets real about the heartbreak of trying for a baby in a post-Roe Texas, where rising maternal mortality and strict abortion bans make parenthood a terrifying prospect. A weekend at an abortion rights conference brought her unexpected comfort, community, and a little hope.

After a tragic school stabbing in Killeen, families are demanding answers — and change. Years of bullying, ignored reports, and a system that’s failing kids come to light in this gut-punch of a story.

A celebrity space launch turned into a story of resilience as activist Amanda Nguyen, a sexual assault survivor, carried her hospital bracelet to space — redefining hope for survivors everywhere.

Oh and the Cybertruck flopped so hard Elon’s now selling one with cloth seats. Yes, really.

I Went to an Abortion Conference. It Made Me Want to Be a Mother

My husband and I are celebrating seven years of marriage and are terrified to have children in Texas. An abortion conference changed that.

By Leslie Rangel

This week I’m celebrating seven years married to my husband and we still have no children. We’re happily married and very much enjoy not having parenting responsibilities, but it’s a part of life that we both want. We thought for sure by now, in our mid 30s, we’d at least have a toddler, but as life happens – and since we’ve been very career focused – that wasn’t the case. 

As a Latina woman, it’s been a challenge to answer family members who ask why we still don’t have kids. Every holiday gathering comes with the quintessential comments: “Y los nietos?” or “Donde están los babies?” or the ones that make me blush like, “Are y’all practicing for kids?” I’ve even gotten the unsolicited, “You know, it’s OK if you don’t have kids,” in what felt like a way to press the issue.

My first instinct has always been to say “Mind your own business,” but that might’ve ended with hurt feelings, to say the least, so I’d answer with “You already have grandchildren?” or “Don’t my adorable rescue pugs count as the nietos?” 

This past holiday season, we were at my in-laws in east Texas, getting ready to head to my parents’ home for the second half of the celebrations, and I felt so much relief that the questions hadn’t come up. I was happy that this year might be different, and the baby topic would be tabled. I was too quick to let my guard down, because just as we were hugging and exchanging goodbyes, I got the question: “So guys, when are the babies coming?” My heart sank. I wanted to cry. I wasn’t sure what excuse I would make up this time, so in a split second, I followed my gut and decided to be honest. 

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