Svitlana Onyshchenko, an obstetrician at the Vorzel maternity hospital, accepted birth during the occupation. The story of Svitlana and her colleagues is not just a medical diary from the war zone, it is a testament to humanity, courage and professionalism. 

The beginning of the war coincided with a family tragedy for Svitlana – her father-in-law died on February 23. Already on February 25, she went on duty, which lasted continuously until March 9. The conditions were critical: Vorzel was occupied, lack of communication, constant threat of shelling. The windows were closed, and workers were afraid to look out from behind the curtains – too often russian tanks passed by the building.

When it was not possible to go to the delivery rooms, they gave birth right in the corridors. It has no windows. On one of these days, little Bohdan was born — "4300 grams of happiness," as the interlocutor recalls. "We are giving birth to a baby, everyone is applauding, and one of the men is holding the baby and he is told: "Well done, daddy!”. And he answers: "This is not mine, my wife is already sitting there with a child!" - recalls the obstetrician.  During that time, 19 babies were born there!

After the evacuation of the maternity hospital from Vorzel, Svitlana returned home to the neighbouring village of Klavdiievo-Tarasove. The most difficult test for her was a home birth in the occupation. She was called to a woman in labour from the village of Babyntsi. There was no proper equipment, no ability to call or consult anyone. Everything had to be done on experience, intuition and prayer. Svitlana always had oxytocin, an umbilical cord clip, and an antibiotic with her – "just in case." She recalls: "It was cold and scary, but we prayed. And I felt that I was not alone – it was as if I had paramedics, God's presence and hope." Together with a colleague, they accepted two more births – one after the other.

Svitlana never tires of talking about the profession that she adores. She is an obstetrician with more than 34 years of experience. Here place is "where life is born," as one patient said.

Svitlana dreams that her son will return alive from the war, that her granddaughter will grow up in peace, that her mother will be healthy, and that the first child's cry will sound in the maternity hospital instead of sirens. "I still want to work. To help more than one mother then. So that they will remember me – not because of the war, but for the life that we gave to the world together."