“Kitty, we are leaving.”

“Kitty, we are leaving.”

I genuinely thank the organization for the provided help. From time to time, the war provokes emotions and the desire to write. Often, the thoughts are spontaneous and are not coherent. They wander, so to say. I will try to describe recent events and my personal emotional state. About children, pregnancy, and a dad who is alive.

When I talk to girls and women who already have children – you get envious, not in a bad sense, of course, because this is such happiness. People make plans of how to tell their husband, how to walk together when you turn all around [due to pregnancy], and how to prepare for the labor together. But the damned war has taken away from us this war “together.”

Our young family, the dearest “US,” before the war, we planned that after we got married, we would live for ourselves for a few years and save money for a car (we would borrow some of it as it is impossible to make much money in Ukraine by honest means). This was planned because, unfortunately, in Ukraine, the educators (and not only educators but others as well) it is not entirely realistic to save much money, despite all the talks about the prestige of the profession, the honor, and respect – [in reality] this is the most vulnerable group among the working people. If anyone has to be limited in any way in our country, it is always just teachers. One can save money if they are a bandit, a killer, “a swindler and a humbug,” but this is not the way.

Jüdisches Leben in Deutschland – 1933-1945 (von der Machtübernahme zum Holocaust)

Let me go back to talking about my family – so, all of the plans were destroyed by the (bitch)-war…

I really want to have a son… A son that would look identical to his father… And my husband worries about me raising the son alone if anything happens… I am writing about it and crying. I cannot hold my tears back. I want to scream of the pain of how many children were left without parents. How many parents lost their children – the unborn ones, the babies, teenagers, young boys and girls, and grown-up children. We are not told the statistics of the actual casualties… In these horrible and challenging times, all I want is to have a son or a daughter and their father to be at home… and be ALIVE! How many families have lost their family members, and how many will still lose more…the unspeakable pain for all Ukrainian men and women… for all of the defenders… the medics, and the civilians… for all of those in Russian captivity who are kept in horrible conditions are being tortured… The captives, our poor prisoners of war.

One cannot forget their eyes… I scrolled through the Telegram channel “Recognize a khokhol by his chub [traditional Ukrainian haircut]” (yes, this is what these inhuman creatures Russians have titled the page where they post photos of the captives). I have already seen two people whom I know personally… pain, condolences, anger, and hatred towards Russians… My husband is in the territorial defense. Anticipation. Anticipation of something horrible. I am sitting and waiting – will he come back or not. Yes, we are in a safe city, yes. But all of my husband’s belongings and those of his military companions are packed in backpacks. They are ready. It may happen so that one day my husband will call me saying, “Kitty, we are leaving.” I am sitting here, and every day I am afraid to receive such a message. But such is a woman’s fate…

Viktoriia, [...].