When There Is War in the Anamnesis

Chapter 1

I waited for my son for six years. A thought about leaving my husband crossed my mind more than once. Why does he need a wife who cannot give birth to a child?

The year 2014 was a challenge for me. After the occupation of a part of the Donetsk Region, crowds of people poured into Mariupol. Retired people from the village of Shyrokyne—that doesn’t exist anymore. They were wealthy, now they don't even have a bed. I met an old lady whose husband was killed at a roadblock. In the director's office, I let her cry and taught her how to cope with hand tremors. Also, a man from Shakhtarsk, together with his wife and a small child; they had a nice car, and he wanted to exchange it for a house. I helped people to find jobs. I made humanitarian kits, submitted lists for government monetary assistance, clothes, and shoes. There were too many people.

All that work led to me being diagnosed with an endocrine disease and cancer. Treatment, hormones, chemotherapy. I experienced a lack of strength and a feeling of constant fatigue. My husband was there for me when I felt like a lost child. When I was operated on, he was waiting in the corridor. Even under anaesthesia, I felt his love.

Care and support helped to return to life and undergo treatment. But the question remained: would I be able to get pregnant and give birth to a child?

And finally, I had a pregnancy test in my hands with such a desirable result. I hesitated: might this be a mistake? My husband and I went to the pharmacy and bought two more tests. We stood in line, due to “COVID rules”. We came back home, the two tests showed the same result. I didn’t know what to think. I was beyond myself with joy. It's scary to be happy. He’s not born yet. My husband and I were silent. “I want baked fish”—I heard my voice suddenly. My husband nodded.

 

Chapter 2

I got back on my feet after the disease. I gained an extra 10 kg. At work, they started talking about working with people who commit violence. It’s scary, but you need to be able to protect yourself. Last year, before the news of my pregnancy, my husband and I went to boxing classes. There I met people who were part of the self-defence detachment. They taught me how to shoot, invited me to join their self-defence unit. I refused. I thought to myself: “Don't lie to yourself, you’ll never be able to kill a person.” I look back at that time and understand how much I was mistaken. I can and I want to drop everything and shoot at the Russian military. What happened to those I trained with? Our coach, a boxing champion, was captured. He had no chance. Our city was shelled with almost all types of ammunitions that are in existence. It was only thanks to the athletic self-discipline skills he had taught us, that we were able to survive the starvation.

 

Chapter 3

Four months have passed since that day. Explosions. My husband and I are on the floor, in the doorway. My sister's family is here too. They came to save themselves, because their city district had been almost destroyed. We live on the fifth floor, the last one. If they drop a bomb on the building, we will be done for. The earth shakes. We are no longer afraid of artillery fire and shooting. A deadly roulette is ahead. Aircraft carrying bombs come every four hours. They don’t care where to drop them. Four bombs. One, two, three, four. The high-rise building next to ours is gone. I want to kill Russians. Give me a weapon, please. I shift my gaze to the slightly round belly. You are responsible for this life, so... you keep on sitting in the doorway, in your husband’s arms. All he can do is cook on the fire, get firewood and water, and hug me. We were deprived of gas, power and drinking water. This is the Russians’ strategy, they call it “encircle and bleed them dry”. What will make you die faster? Hunger, cold, dehydration or weapons? It’s impossible to leave, cars are being shot at, gasoline is almost impossible to get. My child is not born yet, but he is already suffering so much.

 

Chapter 4

I have a feeling that the baby will die soon. It’s been a month since I slept more than four hours. The nighttime explosions feel like a wake-up call from a horror movie yet to be imagined by filmmakers—but one already created by our "neighbours". The maternity hospital where I was supposed to give birth was destroyed. There will be no medical assistance.

All that is left for me is to talk to my child in my mind:

“Forgive this world, my dear. I know it’s hard for you to believe, but it can be different. If you stay with me, I will introduce you to its good side. You will see the Pacific Ocean and whales, Niagara Falls, Everest...”. My thoughts are interrupted, another explosion, the building shakes.

“My dear, I'm sorry that there is such cruelty and inhumanity in the world. Stay with me, please, I’ve been waiting for you for so long.”

I know that my feelings are transferred to him. This thought hurts me even more. You can still somehow hide your feelings in front of a new-born baby. But here there is complete helplessness, horror and guilt. I don’t understand why this is allowed, where is the humanity? If my son dies, maybe this will be the right choice for him. But time goes on. And he and I continue our struggle for life.

 

Chapter 5

People say there’s a way to get out. No one gives any guarantees, but there is an understanding. Russians are in Mariupol. Having worked with people who had moved to the city back in 2014, I had a rough idea of what to expect. The Russians would play the state game and manipulate. Over time, in order to survive and not die of hunger, we would become completely dependent on them. We would go and take food from them.

There is such a thing as post-rape candy. Paedophiles silence children that way. And then continue to fuck them...The price of such candies is a mutilated psyche and a mutilated life.

The price of humanitarian kits from the Russians is even higher. You must step over the corpses of Ukrainian children and adults. Disregard the dead defenders. Take food, giving up your conscience and human dignity for it. We decided that we wouldn’t do that. We would leave.

Some people call the road from Mariupol to Zaporozhye the “Road of Life”. And it’s true. If you can drive through it, you will survive. There are mines on the roads, destroyed vehicles and countless Russian soldiers with their searches and interrogations. They differ in appearance and manners. There are well-mannered and there are rude ones. The latter ones, at least, pretend. I share a “joke” that I’ve heard from them:

- What brand is this car?

- Well, fuck if I know, let’s just fuck it up with an “Grad” artillery shell.

Laughter follows. And I keep silence, because I’m smart. My body doesn’t belong to me only. They would beat me in the stomach.

We almost made it, but the road is closed. There’s a “Mines” sign. We leave the car and go on foot. Smoke rises from a car in the field. As the Ukrainian military would tell us later, a woman with a child was behind the wheel. She chose to drive through the minefield, in order not to remain in the occupation. We understood her. We were lucky, the Ukrainian military showed us where the car could go through. We are in free Ukraine, but I can’t exhale.

 

Chapter 6

I exhale only when the doctors put him on my chest. A living son with protruded ears, the very image of his father. My hero, my personal saviour, my award: Illia.

According to the psychoanalysis theory, he was supposed to be born hostile to the world and depressed. My husband likes everything about him. The way he babbles something very gently, cries, carefully explores the world, tries to walk, crawls, poops. He already has eight teeth, and it looks like he is proud of it. He often bites and laughs. He is my happiness and miracle. He is healthy and smiling. Sometimes he looks at me with very mature eyes. That’s not surprising, given his experience.

He is a year old today. He takes his first steps. This gives great joy to me and my husband. We are going to order a cake. And make a wish. I feel calm and warm, now I know exactly what love is. When my husband, my son, and my dog are around me, an invisible battery turns on inside me. Could I be happier? I know I can. After I reclaim my stolen sea and my stolen home.