In the midst of all the bereavement and pain that envelops the country, there are also a few moments of happiness, in the form of new babies coming into the world. We went out to ask the new parents how it felt to give a new life in wartime.
Inbal and Lior Yaniv | Moshav Dvora
"We named him Ofir after my sister-in-law's brother, Ofir Liebstein, z"l, who was murdered."
Last Tuesday, a fourth son was born at HaEmek Medical Center to Inbal and Lior Yaniv from Moshav Dvora, in the 35th week of pregnancy. "I gave birth earlier than expected," Inbal says. "Since the beginning of the war, our family has gone through difficult days at all, and all the events have brought us severe trauma, anxiety and stress, which apparently caused premature birth."
When she talks about difficult days that her family went through, Inbal is referring to one of the first victims whose names were published. "My sister-in-law's brother is the late Shaar Hanegev Mayor Ofir Liebstein, who was murdered. We have been a bereaved family since my brother Noam was killed in an attack that took place in Afula 23 years ago."
The birth itself was easy. Inbal says, "After two days of waiting for the birth to progress while hospitalized, I went into the delivery room and gave birth within two and a half hours. Fast and good birth, without pitocin and without epidural.
"It was exciting to bring life amidst all the madness we're going through. Birth is a sign of life and it gives hope to the light that will come after all this nightmare. We decided to call him Ivry Ofir - Hebrew because all the children have the letter A in their name, and Ofir because that's the name of the head of the Shaar Hanegev council who fought valiantly, and now it's the most appropriate name."
"To bring life within the power of madness." Yaniv, Photo: HaEmek Hospital
Sharon and Shmuel Pollak | Lod
"Special and exciting moments amidst all the inferno outside"
Sharon Pollak, 31, from Lod, a secretary at a transportation company, arrived at Beilinson Hospital last Wednesday on the verge of giving birth in her third pregnancy. She arrived at the hospital alone because her husband Shmuel had been drafted into the reserves on the first day of the fighting.
"It's a complicated and difficult feeling to be without my husband on the day of birth," she says. "There are two other children in the house that my mother-in-law is looking after. Fortunately, I was wrapped up here in the hospital. The midwives and other dedicated staff didn't let me feel like I was alone for a moment."
After five hours in the delivery room, Shmuel received a release from his commander to attend the birth and then return to the reserves. He managed to be with Sharon during labor, and she is now recovering after a cesarean section.
Prof. Osnat Welfish, Director of Beilinson Women's Hospital, says: "Naturally, in times of war there are women who come to give birth when some of their close family members cannot be by their side. This war touches and resonates with all of us. Our teams in the delivery rooms and wards try to do everything so that they do not feel alone, and that they are wrapped up and happy in these special and exciting moments - like on a small island of joy, amidst all the inferno outside."
"Complex feeling." Sharon Pollak and Dr. Shai Sukenik, Photo: Beilinson Spokesperson
Tal and Tzachi Zuk | Beit El'Azari
"Life must go on and that's why we called her Liv, a name that symbolizes life."
Tal Zuk, 35, from Beit Elazari, never imagined that this would be what her birth would look like. On Saturday morning, her husband Tzachi arranged to go on a cruise with the older girls in Tiberias, but "as soon as the sirens started, we entered the safe room, and slowly, like all the people of Israel, we realized the extent of the horror," she says.
Tzachi – the owner of a hotel in Gedera, a spa in Rehovot and other businesses in the area, whose employees lost family members murdered in the atrocities in the south – immediately enlisted in the mission: hosting families from the envelope and donating food to the soldiers.
Last Sunday, Tal came for a visit at Kaplan Medical Center in Rehovot, and realized that from there she would leave with the baby in her arms.
"We waited for her for so long, and it's so sad that the birth came out at this time," Tal says. "It was also hard to disconnect in the delivery room, but I met at Kaplan a powerful, warm, sensitive and tolerant team of women who helped me do this.
"I also understood that life must go on, so we also called it Liv, a name that symbolizes life, vitality, success and happiness. It's hard for me to contain the contrast between everything that's happening in the country and my own happiness, but life is stronger than anything."
"It's hard to contain the contrast." The Zuk couple and the midwife (right), photo: Kaplan Hospital
Liel and Lidor Sofer | Kfar Saba
"Alongside all the pain, there is also joy here."
Liel and Lidor Sofer's fourth son was born on the fourth day of the war at Meir Medical Center in Kfar Saba. "It's hard to give birth when your heart is crying and scared," Liel shares, "and for a moment I couldn't even make progress in labor. To give birth in the shadow of sirens and phone calls announcing that another person we know has been murdered is inconceivable. But life is really stronger than everything, and alongside all the pain, there is also joy here."
Lidor's father, Shalom Sofer, was murdered exactly a year ago in a stabbing attack. Lidor himself volunteers at ZAKA, and was supposed to be in the surrounding communities these days, busy with the unbearable identification work. "The birth was very exciting," says Lidor, "partly because of my father, also because of the situation, and of course thanks to the amazing support of Noy Roth, the midwife who accompanied us.
"One of the first people we heard fell was the battalion commander of the Nahal Patrol, Lt. Col. Yonatan Tzur, who destroyed the house of the terrorist who murdered my father and became a close friend of ours. The pain is immense. As far as I'm concerned, our birth proves that no matter how much they try to destroy us, we are strong and we will move on, we will grow stronger and multiply as we have done for thousands of years so far."
Dr. Gil Shechter-Maor, Director of the delivery rooms at Meir Hospital: "The State of Israel is going through shaky and shocking days, and we are grateful that our part in the life cycle is the moments of creation, accompanying our mothers and wishing together for other days."
"It's hard to give birth when your heart is crying." The couple Sofer and Dr. Gil Shechter (right), photo: Meir Hospital Spokesperson's Office
Kim and Dor Marciano | Sheva
"Childbirth on days like this gives us a lot of light"
Last Tuesday night, as the sirens sounded outside, Kim Marciano, 29, from Beersheba, was in labor at the Saban Midwifery Center at Soroka Hospital in Beer Sheva. It was her second daughter, a new sister to a baby born a year and five months ago.
"Giving birth on days like this gives us a lot of light," she says. "I had a wonderful birth and I knew I was in good hands" - and for good reason: her husband Dor is a doctor specializing in the obstetrics and gynecology division at the hospital, and she already knew midwife Anat Ben Halevy.
"I was so happy to meet Anat, the amazing midwife who delivered me last time as well," Kim says.
Anat herself confirms: "At the first birth we had a really good connection, and we hoped that we would meet at the second birth, whenever it was. I was supposed to be on annual leave these days, but because of the situation and the war, there was a shortage of midwives, because some of them live near the Gaza Strip and had to leave the area with their families.
"When I arrived for the shift, I met Kim who was in labor, and we were very excited about the closure of this birth. I'm glad I could accompany her one more time."
Closure. Marciano and midwife Anat, photo: Soroka Hospital
Shimrit Edri and Corinne Barbie | boulevard
"Our babies are a message to our enemies: We are here to stay."
Shimrit Edri, 32, and Corinne Barbie, 35, both from Sderot, gave birth to boys last Monday at Barzilai Medical Center in Ashkelon. "Our newborn babies are a message to our enemies: We are here to stay," Corinne declares with complete confidence.
For Shimrit, this is her fifth birth. The newborn baby is hospitalized in the hospital's NICU, and when they are discharged they intend to return home to Sderot - where her husband is taking care of their four other children. "In the shadow of all the sorrow and pain we are experiencing these days, we have brought new life into the world and it gives strength and hope. I wish we heard only good things," she says.
Corinne's husband is next to her, while their children stay at their grandmother's house in Ashkelon, but she too has no doubt: "We are returning home to Sderot - albeit with a sense of fear, but with hope that quiet will return."
"Gives strength". Edri, photo: courtesy of Barzilai Hospital
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