Pregnant Venezuelan Mom Seeks Self-Deportation Amid Trump’s Crackdown New York

By Suraj Karowa /ANW February 2 2026

Franyelis rides a bus in New York with her sons, Yoneifer and Emma.

— Franyelis, 28, never planned to get pregnant again after fleeing Venezuela with her partner Yonquenide and their two young sons two years ago.

Now seven months along with their third child, she desperately wants to self-deport from the U.S. to reunite with her family—but bureaucratic hurdles have trapped her in limbo.

The family arrived legally in August 2024 via the Biden-era CBP One app at the U.S.-Mexico border, seeking asylum after extortion by drug runners.

They settled in New York, where Yonquenide worked odd jobs—deliveries, moving, street vending—earning $900 weekly.

Emma and Yoneifer run around St. Peter’s Church in New York in November.

Life brightened with tourist photos at the Brooklyn Bridge and Times Square, even as Franyelis conceived unexpectedly.

Everything shattered after Donald Trump’s January 2025 inauguration. The CBP One app shut down, Temporary Protected Status for Venezuelans ended, and ICE ramped up arrests.

At a September court hearing before Judge Jonathan Reingold, agents detained Yonquenide in the Manhattan courthouse hallway, separating him from crying sons Yoneifer, 9, and toddler Emma.

Franyelis and the boys were spared.Yonquenide endured 10 days in ICE facilities before landing in Louisiana’s Jackson Parish Correctional Center.

His asylum case shifted to “detained court,” notorious for swift deportations. In December, a judge ordered his removal.

Franyelis and Emma walk in January along a street in New York.

Facing eight more months detained for an appeal, he signed deportation papers and flew back to Venezuela in a U.S. flight among 10,072 compatriots from January to October 2025, per Deportation Data Project analysis.

Back in Maracaibo, Yonquenide earns $70-80 weekly in construction amid 20-30% monthly hyperinflation.

Venezuela’s chaos worsened: U.S. bombings of alleged drug boats, then January 3’s capture of President Nicolás Maduro on narco-terrorism charges, sparking border closures and surveillance.

“Calls are recorded,” Yonquenide whispered to CNN.In New York, Franyelis shifted from embracing the American dream to despair.

Yonquenide is told by ICE agents he will be detained and instructed to hand his son to his partner after leaving his immigration hearing at 26 Federal Plaza in New York.

Living in a repurposed Days Inn shelter, she babysits for $50 shifts while caring for active Emma and schoolboy Yoneifer, who misses warm Venezuelan beaches and his outgoing dad.

A GoFundMe raised $2,100 for essentials, but her April due date looms. “I can’t give birth here—who watches my boys in the hospital?” she worries.

She filed for voluntary departure with Immigration Judge Reingold, renouncing asylum to avoid re-entry bans.

Her lawyer, Saverio Lo Monaco, calls it rare: “Most fight to stay until 2029.” Trump’s program offers $2,600 and free flights to self-deporters, but Franyelis lacks a passport—unavailable since U.S.-Venezuela ties severed in 2019.

No U.S. consulate exists; options like traveling to Mexico are impossible while pregnant with toddlers.

Land routes via Panama’s Darien Gap, used by 18,000 Venezuelans last year per UNHCR, are too risky.

“Legally, it’s an impasse,” Lo Monaco says. Yonquenide agrees: “She needs help to get here.

Yoneifer cries as his family watches ICE agents detain his father. To the right is Father Eduardo Fabian Arias, a Catholic priest who supports Spanish-speaking families in the courthouse.

“Franyelis tends daily routines—school pickups, library visits, St. Peter’s Church clinics—her shy smile masking tears.

Yoneifer learns English fast but yearns for reunion; Emma giggles obliviously. “I need to leave,” she repeats, stroking her belly.

“It’s a boy.”As geopolitical tensions peak, Franyelis embodies a crackdown subplot: a family torn apart, now struggling to reverse course in a system built for expulsion, not return.