A day after the Los Angeles fires began, I returned to what was once my two bedroom condo in the Pacific Palisades. I wanted to see what was left.
I masked up with an N95 – I wore two, in fact, thinking that it would protect me and my pregnancy better. In spite of the double layer, I could smell the acrid, toxic fumes that the smouldering piles of rubble were emitting. I felt light-headed, and I had a headache for two days, even though I barely left the car.
Since the Eaton and Palisades fires, which burned almost 40,000 acres – an area three times size of Manhattan – and more than 15,400 structures, I’ve been obsessively checking the Air Quality Index (AQI) that I usually rely on for air pollution levels. Air pollution accounts for more than 7 million deaths globally – it’s an incredibly serious health issue. And in California, up to 4% of preterm births have been attributed to wildfire smoke exposure during pregnancy.
Although there is little research on the impact of wildfire smoke on pregnancy and birth outcomes, one study I found detailed a decreased average birth weight among infants who were carried in utero during wildfires – particularly during the second trimester. Another research paper, which studied the impacts of Australian wildfires on pregnant women found that elevated maternal stress caused by the fires accelerated the growth of fetuses, potentially due to an elevation of maternal blood glucose levels.
More findings showed that breathing in smoke-associated PM2.5 air pollutants during the second trimester is associated with preterm birth. I’m six months pregnant – well into my second trimester – and I can’t help but fear what impact these fires will have on my child.
And so it’s been with disbelief that I’ve read the air quality in the Palisades, and the surrounding areas, is “good”. It’s made me wonder whether the AQI is still fit for purpose. Does it give me enough information to know whether an environment is safe in the aftermath of a wildfire, especially for pregnant people?
The index measures five air pollutants that the EPA regulates – everyday pollutants such as smog and carbon monoxide. What it doesn’t measure is the contaminants produced when manmade materials burn. Fridges, asbestos in roofing, cars, insulation, rubber, plastic foam…I could go on. They produce cyanide, amongst other chemicals, which cause cyanide poisoning. In fact, when people die from house fires it’s not from burns – it’s from inhalation of the smoke produed by these types of chemicals.
Imagine the chemicals produced from one house fire. Now multiply that by 15,400 and that’s the problem LA is facing right now. The kind of fires we’ve experienced in the city are called wildland-urban interface (WUI) fires, and they can lead to public health effects that are “unique” compared to other fires.
WUI fires are not like standard wildfires, which burn trees and grasslands. These fires are a dramatic cause of air, water and soil pollution, yet the full health implications of inhaling this smoke are still understudied.
Studies of WUI fires have found numerous toxic substances in the smoke they generate, from benzene and flame retardants, to hydrogen cyanide and heavy metals. Many of these chemicals are carcinogens, or have been linked to cardiovascular and neurological impairments.
But I couldn’t find any research on how these specific WUI fires impact pregnant women.
And it’s not only the air quality that troubles me. When my partner and I returned to the charred foundations of our home – both to see if anything had survived and to take pictures for our insurance company to prove it had burned down — we managed to find a bracelet amongst the rubble and a couple of flower pots that had survived, small and precious remnants of what we used to own. It was only afterwards that I realised we, and the trinkets we rescued, were covered in ash.
Toxic ash, from everything in our home that was never meant to burn. We brushed ourselves off, bagged up the worst of our clothing, and rinsed down floor mats in the car. But the ash was everywhere. And exposure to it can cause long term health impacts that are still not fully understood.
There has been little – if any – health and safety information offered to residents who are being allowed back to their neighborhoods to see what’s left. The Palisades have started to let a trickle of homeowners in to survey the damage, and take photos so they can start their insurance claims. But residents aren’t being warned of the toxicity of the area they’re walking into.
Most people, although not all, are wearing masks. But they’re surgical masks or KN95s, not the kind of protective gear they actually need. One Palisades homeowner, who happens to be a pulmonologist at UCLA, and well acquainted with the health risks of air pollution, returned home wearing the same mask as I did. He realised, only too late, that he should have been in gloves, goggles, a respirator mask, and long clothes that he could remove and bag after he left the area.
I eventually ended up leaving Los Angeles for a week, because of my paranoia about the smoke. But I’ll be back in a few days’ time. I’ve been trying to figure out which areas of the city might have less air pollution than others – but it’s impossible to judge when I can’t rely on the AQI anymore. I’ve resorted to texting friends all over the city and asking what their local air quality is like. “Blue, clear skies,” they’ve replied. But I know that’s not the full story.