WHEN María Florencia Alcaraz discovered that she was pregnant in 2015 she was unprepared for motherhood. The contraceptives she was taking hadn’t worked. Aged 30, she was employed as a journalist in the justice ministry. With a general election in the offing she worried that she would lose her job under a new government. Unable to end the pregnancy legally in Argentina, she turned to friends for advice. One gave her misoprostol, a stomach-ulcer drug often used to induce abortions. At 13 weeks into her pregnancy she popped the pills alone at home and spent a day in bed. The DIY abortion gave her “a sense of relief and autonomy”, she recalls.

Like many countries in Latin America, where mores have been shaped by the Catholic church, Argentina outlaws most abortions (see map). Women who undergo them can be jailed for four years (or longer if the baby is deemed to be viable outside the womb). The law makes exceptions for pregnancies that are the result of rape or that endanger the mother’s health or for fetuses that are malformed. Despite Argentina’s restrictive rule, nearly a half-million abortions a year take place there, say campaigners for less restrictive laws.

On June 13th the lower house of Argentina’s congress will vote on a bill to legalise elective abortions within the first 14 weeks of gestation. A Yes vote, followed by approval in the senate, would have repercussions beyond Argentina. Elective abortion is now legal for just 3% of women in Latin America and the Caribbean. If Argentina votes to allow it, that will rise to 10%. Women from neighbouring countries might come to Argentina for abortions. Other countries might follow Argentina’s lead.

In practice, Argentina has a two-tiered abortion regime. Rich and middle-class women can get relatively safe (but illegal) abortions by taking misoprostol, which costs about 2,800 pesos ($112). Although prescriptions can be hard to get, instructions are available on the internet. Women who want a surgical abortion, which causes less bleeding, can usually find private doctors willing to perform them. That can cost $1,000—far more than most poor women can pay. Even misoprostol may be out of their reach, especially for teenagers or for women whose husbands or boyfriends control the cash. Some resort to backstreet abortions or unsafe medication sold online. Argentina’s health ministry counted 31 deaths from abortions in 2016, which may be an underestimate. The biggest problem for many comes after the procedure. Whereas rich women can go to their doctors if something goes wrong, the poor must seek treatment in public hospitals, where staff might report them to the police. In 2014, the latest year for which official figures are available, 47,000 women were hospitalised for complications. Although the vast majority are treated and sent home, a few high-profile punishments have frightened many women. In 2016 a 27-year-old woman who miscarried was sentenced to eight years in prison for murder after hospital staff accused her of inducing an abortion. Her conviction was overturned on appeal. Tragedies and injustices have changed Argentines’ conservative attitudes towards abortion, says Maxine Molyneux, a sociologist at University College London. In 2004 two-thirds of Argentines opposed liberalising the law. According to a poll published in March this year, the same proportion now favour legalisation. Feminist groups such as Ni Una Menos (Not One Less), formed in 2015, have campaigned with increasing vigour against domestic violence and the macho culture that encourages it. That has spilled over into demands for more liberal abortion laws. A younger generation of women has helped that cause. On this year’s International Women’s Day, March 8th, tens of thousands of women wearing green scarves, many of them teenagers, marched in support of legislation. “Get your rosaries off our ovaries”, their banners demanded. The same month a smaller crowd responded by carrying a huge papier mâché fetus through the centre of Buenos Aires, chanting “yes to life, no to abortion”.

Congressional opinion has not shifted as much as voters’ attitudes have. The vote in the lower house is expected to be very close. If the measure passes, it will move on to the senate, where most legislators have already said they will vote against it. Argentina’s president, Mauricio Macri, who is personally against liberalisation, says legislators should vote according to their consciences. He says he will not veto a law that loosens restrictions. Even if the measure fails, campaigners believe that legalisation will soon happen. “It’s inevitable,” says Sabrina Cartabia, a pro-choice activist. “The country has moved on.”