Anastasia, 24, along with her daughter, born the day gone by, in a room on the Sloviansk Metropolis Medical Hospital, on March 28.
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SLOVIANSK, Ukraine — The squalling cries of newborns echo by way of the hallway of Sloviansk Metropolis Medical Hospital within the beleaguered Donetsk area of jap Ukraine.
Sitting by the window in her room, younger mom Anastasia cradles her 1-day-old daughter Vasilisa. Whereas she’s completely satisfied to share this non-public second with NPR, she would not want to share the household’s surname.
Anastasia additionally has an 18-month-old at residence. Regardless of the battle, the 25-year-old mom desires to remain within the city the place she grew up and her total household nonetheless lives.
“If things get really bad, of course we will leave,” she says. “But as long as it’s bearable, it’s always better to be at home than somewhere else.”
With Russian forces now occupying two-thirds of this province, Sloviansk has the final working maternity ward in Ukrainian managed Donetsk.
This industrial city, as soon as identified for its salt mines and dust bathtub spas, has been beneath fixed Russian assault since 2014, when Kremlin-backed separatist forces briefly took management of the city. In the present day, Sloviansk is drained and tattered, however many residents say they’re decided to hold on.

A destroyed kindergarten No. 20 within the metropolis of Sloviansk, Donetsk area.
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Peace, it doesn’t matter what
Anastasia was 14 when the Russian-backed separatists took management for 3 months earlier than being routed by Ukrainian forces. The city finds itself once more beneath assault since Russian President Vladimir Putin launched a full-scale invasion of Ukraine in 2022.
Her kids are usually not but sufficiently old for her to have to clarify the each day air raid sirens or why buildings lie in rubble. However she desires them to know peace.
“I don’t care what kind of peace we have,” Anastasia says. “I just want my children to live healthy with nothing flying over their heads.”
Some Ukrainians within the primarily Russian-speaking jap a part of the nation historically felt nearer to Russia than to Ukraine, whose capital of Kyiv is greater than 400 miles away within the north-central area. That has modified with the full-scale battle.
Dr. Valentina Hlushchenko, who’s displaying NPR across the hospital, says the query of whether or not the area ought to be a part of Russia or Ukraine ripped households aside in 2014 when the battle started. So they do not talk about it anymore.

Ihor Kachaniuk, 24, meets his spouse Victoria Kachaniuk, 29, after the start of their son Kim on the Sloviansk Metropolis Medical Hospital.
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“We already experienced this pain in 2014 — it split husbands and wives, pitted brother against brother,” she says. “And since the full-scale invasion in 2022, it’s been a complete catastrophe. So it’s a closed topic. We don’t have these conversations so as not to hurt or offend people. Everyone just tries to live their lives.”
Hlushchenko says folks maintain on within the city so long as they will for companies, or their pensions. Going some place else may additionally imply having to pay hire.
“We must provide care to Ukrainians until the last moment”
A big map of Ukraine hangs on the wall over hospital director Volodymyr Ivanenko’s desk. He says when Russia invaded in 2022, most of the workers fled. However virtually everybody has returned and now they’re working at 90% capability, working by way of missile strikes and electrical energy and water cuts.
“We are a Ukrainian health institution and we must provide care to Ukrainians until the last moment,” he says. “Whether it’s dangerous or not is another issue.”

Volodymyr Ivanenko, 69, director of Sloviansk Metropolis Medical Hospital in his workplace in entrance of the map of Ukraine.
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Ivanenko says a number of medical doctors had been killed when a missile hit the hospital in 2023.
However he says the hospital should proceed its work.
“We know the consequences perfectly well, because almost every day we treat civilians and we see the nature of their injuries,” he says. “But it’s a job, just like sitting in a trench. You have to live and work for something.”
Closely pregnant Khrystyna Deshchenko is sitting within the hallway on a bench subsequent to her husband, Valentyn. She says her contractions have began. The couple is from close by Kramatorsk, the place Russian missile strikes have killed a whole bunch of civilians over the previous three years.
The couple says they’re very frightened concerning the security of their first baby and consider the long run doesn’t bode properly for Donetsk province. They are saying they plan to maneuver to a safer place farther west, just like the Kyiv suburbs.

Khrystyna Deshchenko, 24, and Valentyn Deshchenko, 25, are ready for the start of their first baby on the Sloviansk Metropolis Medical Hospital.
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“Here in the east things happen very fast,” says Valentyn Deshchenko. “Sometimes there is no time to even sound an alarm when a ballistic missile is fired. So life here can be a bit miserable.”
He says earlier than President Trump was elected, he thought any peace take care of Russia would freeze territory alongside the contact line between the warring international locations, leaving Ukraine in charge of a part of Donetsk province. However now he thinks Ukraine will lose all of it.
“Trump and Russia will take it away. All our hope is gone,” he says.
“It’s scary for the child. But we’re still here”
Even amid battle, the joyful sounds of youngsters shouting and laughing float from a playground subsequent to Sloviansk city corridor. The constructing’s entrance is buttressed by sandbags. A toddler rides a tricycle out entrance the place large portraits stand of the city’s sons who’ve fallen in battle.
Olena Hunchenko tightly grips the hand of her 1-year-old daughter, Zlata, who has simply realized to stroll. She explains what it is like to lift a toddler in Sloviansk.

Olena Hunchenko with young children within the heart of Sloviansk metropolis, Donetsk area.
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“Well, let’s just say it’s very dangerous,” she says. “Sometimes when it’s loud, it’s scary for the child. But we’re still here.”
Hunchenko was born and raised in what she says was once an idyllic small city. She says if the Russians ever do seize Sloviansk, her household would depart — particularly as a result of her husband is within the Ukrainian army.
Earlier than the battle, Sloviansk had a inhabitants of round 140,000, nevertheless it has dropped dramatically because the full-scale invasion right down to 57,000, in response to the world’s Ukrainian army administration. At one level, the entrance line was just a few miles from right here. In the present day, the Russians have been pushed again at the very least 50 miles away. However Russian forces have been making incremental features, slowly inching again towards Sloviansk.
5-year-old Artem is pretending to be a policeman, yelling out to a different baby to tug his automotive over to the facet of the street and pay a effective for dashing. His father, Dmytro Kluchnikov, seems to be on, smiling.
The 38-year-old grew up in Sloviansk. He says the household left briefly in 2022, shifting to a city farther west. “But it was expensive and they treated us like outsiders,” he says. Right here, all the pieces is ours. There is not any place like residence.”
The conversation is suddenly pierced by the wail of air raid sirens.

Dmytro Kluchnikov holds his son Artem in his arms at a playground within the heart of Sloviansk.
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“He knows the Russians are bombing us and sending drones,” Kluchnikov says of his son. “He hates them. They’re the bad guys.”
He speaks in Ukrainian although he says his Russian is stronger. However he would not need to converse what he calls the language of the invaders anymore.
So will they keep if the Russians ever take Sloviansk?
“We understand they want all of Donetsk,” he says. “If for any reason they get it, we will leave.”
Kluchnikov says he’s very offended about all of the folks the Russians have killed, together with kids.
“How can we accept these killers of civilians?” he asks. “No, absolutely not. We will never live in the country of the killers.”

The Alley of Reminiscence memorial sits in entrance of the Sloviansk Metropolis Administration constructing. An indication on the entrance reads, “Sloviansk welcomes you!”
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Kateryna Malofieieva contributed reporting from Sloviansk, Ukraine. NPR’s Hanna Palamarenko and Polina Lytvynova contributed from Kyiv.