Olga, Ukraine

I Chose to Live Now

War has been part of my life for a long time.

In 2014, I left my home in Donetsk to escape it. After that came years of trial and error, living abroad, and eventually realizing that no matter where I went,

home was still here, in Ukraine.

In 2020, I met the man who would become my husband. At the beginning of February 2022, we got married. Three weeks later, the full-scale invasion began.

Leaving Ukraine would have meant leaving my husband behind. And I simply didn't want to go anywhere else. Especially not alone. So I chose my family.

And I continue choosing them every single day.

People often ask how I decided to have a child during the war.

At some point, I realized that this is my life, and it is happening now.

There is no way to put life on hold.

No one will ever give these years back to me.

Of course, becoming pregnant during the war was frightening.

Throughout my pregnancy, I hoped that by the time my baby was born, peace would have returned.

It didn't.

So we continue to believe.

And we continue to live.

At first, I thought I would wait to have a child until the war was over.

But then I remembered 2014, when I left my home in Donetsk carrying only one small bag of summer clothes because I believed everything would be over soon.

Ten years passed. The war only became larger.

And I asked myself: Would I still be able to have a child ten years from now?

That was the moment I decided that life had to be lived now.

There was only one moment during my pregnancy when I was truly terrified. We were sitting at home while the city was under attack.

Shahed drones were diving toward a warehouse near our building. It felt as though they were flying directly toward our home.

There was nothing I could do except pray that we would survive—and that my baby would have the chance to be born.

I was five months pregnant.

Even now, I am still afraid. Whenever missiles or drones attack, my greatest fear is for my son.

I never know how to protect him. Thankfully, he is still too young to understand what is happening.

But he is growing, and I don't know what the future will bring.

More than anything, I want him to be safe.

I want him to grow up without knowing what war truly is.

I was also afraid that the constant stress would affect my breast milk.

So I tried, whenever I could, to quiet my fears—at least while I was breastfeeding him.

During my pregnancy, I attended childbirth and motherhood classes. One day, we were invited to participate in a group photoshoot.

I thought it sounded interesting. It was an artistic project called Portrait of Motherhood, and we had all been invited as participants.

It is difficult to describe what I felt that day. Mothers with babies only a few months old.

Pregnant women with beautiful growing bellies. Children running everywhere.

And a photographer somehow transforming all that beautiful chaos into art. It was unforgettable. It was uplifting.

Now I continue taking part in the project together with my son.

Every session fills me with hope, restores my energy, and reminds me of the quiet, natural beauty of motherhood.