Khrystyna Pavluchenko caresses the tiny hand of her newborn, Adelina. She had predicted the deep joy of becoming a mother for the first time – but not guilt. “(This) is why I left,” says Pavluchenko, drowning in tears as her longtime child sleeps in a cot next to her hospital bed in the Polish capital, Warsaw. “I did not want to leave. Ought.” On February 24, when the Russian invasion began, Pavluchenko, then eight months pregnant, woke up at 6 in the morning. The first Russian missiles were on their way. Pavluchenko recounts the manic urge to escape for the next 72 hours. Her husband, medically unfit to serve in the Ukrainian army, was already in Poland. She was desperate to be left behind with her parents, grandparents and extended family. But everyone insisted: “Go to Poland.” So, reluctantly, she began planning her dangerous escape from Ukraine. “Rockets are flying. “Where they can strike next, no one knows,” he recalled. Adelina Pavluchenko was born in Warsaw, Poland after her mother left the war in Ukraine. (Kyung Lah / CNN) Pavluchenko hurried to collect them with this in mind. Anything she could imagine needed for her unborn child had to fit in a bag that could cross the border on foot as soon as her bus arrived at the border. “I was afraid of premature delivery,” he says, as he recalls entering Poland. That was the same fear that the Polish customs had when they saw her. They quickly called an ambulance. He was taken to a nearby hospital and eventually to Inflancka Special Hospital in Warsaw, where psychiatrist Magda Dutsch treats Ukrainians. “It’s unthinkable,” says Dutsch. “They often evacuate. They talk about bombings and bombings, for hours, sometimes days, spent in a shelter. They talk about fleeing and how difficult it was to get to the border and get out of the war zone. “For someone who has not seen the war, I do not think it is possible to imagine such pain and such anxiety.” At least 197 Ukrainian children have been born in Polish hospitals since the start of the war, according to the Polish Ministry of Health. When she left, Pavluchenko had no idea that so many other Ukrainians were in a similar situation. To her, she felt completely alone. Tatiana Mikhailuk survived an attack on her hometown of Buchad before being diagnosed with cervical cancer in Poland. (Kyung Lah / CNN) “A Second War”: In another part of the hospital sits Tatiana Mikhailuk, 58, who is also one of Dats’ patients. From her hospital bed, Mikhailuk tells the sad story of her escape from a city outside the Ukrainian capital, Kyiv. As a rocket flew over her head, Mikhailuk left her home with her granddaughter in her arms. The explosions had already burst all the windows of her apartment building. As she and her husband were driving with their grandchildren out of Buchad, an hour north of Kiev, something exploded on the left side of the road. “We cried and prayed all the time,” says Mikhailuk. They did it on time. Two days later, Russian missiles would destroy bridges in their suburbs. Mikhailuk had survived the home attack. But as soon as he crossed the Polish border, he started bleeding. Doctors at Inflancka Specialist Hospital diagnosed her with cervical cancer and performed emergency surgery. “It’s like a second war for me,” says Mikhailuk. “They (the hospital) did everything they could to save me. I am very grateful to them, all over Poland. “I will never forget their kindness and what they do for the Ukrainians.” He adds, “I am grateful to Dr. Khrystyna “, another Ukrainian refugee, sitting in the corner of the room while we talk to her. Khrystyna is not sure how to describe which title to use to refer to her. At her home in Lviv, Ukraine, she is a licensed gynecologist. But in Poland, her official title is “secretary”. “I help,” said Khrystyna, who asked CNN not to reveal her last name. explains. On February 24, Khrystyna’s husband sent her a text message saying: “Pack your things and leave. “The war has begun.” Like so many other Ukrainians in the hospital, she ran with her little son. Read more here.
