Last year (2014), my husband and I fled from Luhansk to Shchastia. We were hoping life would be better here. However, we had to put a mattress in the corridor when attacks began. We slept together with the child. It was the safest place in the apartment — it had no windows.
When my breast milk decreased, I had to figure out another way to feed the baby. We searched baby formula all over the city. My husband went to all the pharmacies in search of baby food, but it wasn't there.
I would like our child to have a peaceful sky above her head. That's why we called the daughter Mira. We hope that she will not remember all this. We will try to forget about it.
