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Abortion physician Dennis Christensen wants to retire. But he can't, the 71-year-old says, because no one wants to take over his Milwaukee clinic, a condition he set for himself for retirement.

Christensen and his professional partner, Bernard Smith, both of whom have performed abortions for more than four decades, hope they can hand over the reins of the Affiliated Medical Center to younger physicians, but so far no one has come forward.

An ongoing lawsuit over a new state requirement for doctors who perform abortions could leave that process more rigorous and less likely to happen.

"I have always felt that this is a worthwhile endeavor and a necessary one," Christensen said. "And there aren't too many people who will do it."

Abortion opponents disagree. Supporters of the recent state law think doctors like Christensen should be held to a higher standard if they want to work with patients.

And with a federal judge considering whether the state can require hospital admitting privileges of doctors who provide abortions, Affiliated may soon have to close its doors.

Barbara Lyons, executive director of Wisconsin Right to Life, said the admitting privileges requirement did not aim to restrict access to abortion, but to promote the safety of the procedures.

"The goal always was and continues to be to protect the care of women," Lyons said. "It's important that the care before, during and after the procedure be from one provider."

But Gretchen Borchelt, a director of health policy at the National Women's Law Center, said the requirements "are not about enhancing women's safety or protecting women's health. They're about shutting down abortion clinics."

Christensen, who said he has performed 85,000 to 95,000 abortions, believes the harassment and stigmatization he has faced pale in comparison to the gratitude of the women he sees. But for many prospective hires, the harassment is a deterring factor, he said.

"So I see it as a calling, I guess," Christensen said. "But I've been called, I've served and now I'd like to call someone else."

Lyons sees her own long-standing role with her anti-abortion organization in a similar light.

"I definitely think it's a calling," Lyons said. "You feel a passion for the people who are negatively impacted by these acts."

The suit against the law was brought by Planned Parenthood of Wisconsin and Affiliated, the two organizations that run the four abortion clinics in the state. They sued just after Gov. Scott Walker signed the requirement into law in 2013, arguing that the admitting privileges law violates the U.S. Constitution's due process guarantee and puts an undue burden on access to abortions.

That requirement, if upheld by U.S. District Judge William Conley in Madison, would prevent Christensen and Smith from practicing at Affiliated and would effectively shut down the clinic. Affiliated is the only Wisconsin clinic that performs abortions beyond 19 weeks of pregnancy. At trial, physicians said the other three clinics operated by Planned Parenthood would be unprepared to treat the additional patients if Affiliated closed.

After working to obtain the credentials, which allow a doctor to become part of a hospital's staff, both Christensen and Smith were denied privileges to hospitals within the 30-mile radius required by the law.

"Each doctor is categorically ineligible due to lack of inpatient care and peer review," said Renée Paradis, one of the American Civil Liberties Union of Wisconsin attorneys representing Christensen. "They still made the effort where they felt they had previous relationships or other factors that they thought could grant them an exception."

Christensen finished his residency in Minneapolis in 1973, the year the Supreme Court issued its landmark decision in Roe v. Wade legalizing abortion.

Christensen has had ownership roles in seven clinics across the state and in Michigan and has practiced in many others. Christensen was a member of the faculty at the University of Wisconsin-Madison for decades and taught students to perform abortions in his clinic in Madison. He said the medical community, though not always inclusive, accepted and appreciated his practice.

Christensen said not everyone was quite as understanding of him.

When protesters came to his Madison home, Christensen said, his son and daughter would gather up their high school friends to send insults back. But in recent years the protests have died down, he said.

"They stopped because it wasn't getting any traction," he said.

Christensen said he has a thick skin, one that has gotten him through groups of protesters on a regular basis. His mantra on most days is to ignore the pickets. But on occasion, on days when work is slow, Christensen said he'll go out on the sidewalk in front of the clinic to let the protesters know their messages aren't taking root.

The Guttmacher Institute, a group that researches and advocates for abortion rights, reports that 84% of clinics experienced at least one form of harassment in 2011. Fifty-three percent of clinics were picketed 20 times or more over the course of a year.

Christensen said he feels safe treating patients in Wisconsin and living in Madison. His colleagues have been injured, kidnapped and killed, he said, but it's part of the deal when they sign on to provide the service.

"We just don't think about it. It's like when you wake up in the morning and you hop in your car in the morning to get to work," Christensen said. "You don't think that you're likely to get in a fatal accident, and you just do the best you can."

Representatives from Planned Parenthood of Wisconsin said in court hearings that the organization struggles to hire abortion physicians because many are afraid of harassment. Additionally, the organization hires by reaching out to practitioners, instead of using traditional ads because abortion opponents have submitted fake applications.