- When the invasion began, fear froze me.
- It was a friend of mine, a fellow mom, who told me to pack up and leave.
For the first two days after the invasion began, I was frozen in fear in our home in Odesa. I wasn't at all worried for myself, but I was absolutely terrified for my two children as our country was attacked.
As a mother, I have never felt such fear and dread; it was paralyzing. While other women in my community felt spurred to help the war effort and got busy cooking in school kitchens or stockpiling food, I stayed at home with my family, weighing every option and hating them all.
A friend of mine — a fellow mom — had already fled on foot, walking with her children to Moldova. I didn't know if I could do it. I didn't know if I could leave my husband behind and walk into the unknown like that.
When my friend arrived in Moldova she was embraced by volunteers and sheltered in the capital city of Chișinău.
"Don't be afraid to grab your kids and just go," she told me.
Her courage gave me the strength to move, and while the last remaining hours in our home were terrifying, they were also precious, because we were still together. I was still able to make choices with my husband by my side. Knowing that we would soon be separated was painful, but I realized my country needed my husband to stay and help protect the families that can't leave. I needed to flee with my children because I could, even if I didn't always believe that.
We planned my departure with my husband
On the evening of February 27, three days after the invasion began, we sat down for one of the hardest conversations of my life. Together we decided that the kids had to get out of
After we reached our decision, I started packing everything I thought we would need — but as any parent knows, packing for kids is hectic, and we were on a tight schedule; we'd gotten word that we would be able to leave by 7 a.m.
Thanks to JDC, the global Jewish humanitarian organization which has long worked in Ukraine and Moldova and is responding to the current crisis, my journey wouldn't be as physically difficult as my friend's had been. We didn't have to flee on foot, and I didn't have to figure everything out on my own.
I filled out a questionnaire, and the organizers took care of everything for me. They provided me with bus schedules, locations, and other detailed information I would need for the trip to Moldova. They took care of all the logistics — all I had to do was get my kids and follow the plan. It was still terrifying, but so much less daunting than doing it alone.
And then we left our home
In the early-morning hours, I fed and dressed my children in our home for the last time and left with only the most necessary items. It was hectic and hard.
My children said goodbye to their father, and my heart broke, both for what my children are going through now and for what the future holds for them. Do they even have a future now?
I followed my friend to Chișinău, where my children and I are receiving food, accommodations, and help from the Jewish community.
I am so grateful to my friend for giving me the courage to get my children out of Ukraine, and so grateful to the Jewish community in Moldova for embracing us.
Back home, the women, children, and elderly people who couldn't flee must descend into the city's labyrinth of catacombs when the sirens announce a missile attack.
While my kids and I figure out our next move, my husband helps these people take shelter under the city. He's a university professor, but now this is his job. Now this is our life.
Editor's note: we are using her first name only to protect her and her children's identity.