Long live Boutcha

But soon the war came with its horrors. With each passing day things get worse. The bombs and the battles, the electricity was cut off, the heating too.

After more than a week in their new apartment, the young couple decided to flee the road, along with the dog Miia. Boutcha is no longer a place for a pregnant woman.

On the morning of March 4, Anton took the steering wheel, Anna holding Miia on his lap. They grabbed some suitcases and made their way to escape. This is the 9th day of the Russian invasion. The war was in Boutcha.

And the war quickly hit their car. The bullets pierced the glass and metal. Both bullets tore at the skin and ended a dream.

My husband was killed immediately. I saw, explains Anna Polonska, sitting on her hospital bed. His wounds are coming from the back. The only thing I could feel was the heat of my back.

Shocked, frightened, he bent down to protect their dog. Moments that make time lose their meaning. Then male voice. A Ukrainian soldier told him to get out of the vehicle. I can’t walk. I didn’t get out. My feet don’t work anymore. She cries, “Don’t leave my female dog!” The soldiers took him to a safe place.

Back, legs, jaw: Anna’s whole body hurts. Even his soul. But that’s not the most urgent thing. There is a whole body that must be adjusted.

He remembered the worried look of one of the doctors who operated on him. Later, she would confess to him that she was really scared that she wouldn’t survive.

A whole new level of hell

Three months later, the young woman recounted her own war. A long and slow battle to regain control of one’s life, to regain one’s autonomy. He walked slowly down the corridor of the hospital in kyiv. But he had to rely on ski poles. With each step he took, his feet seemed to hesitate.

Hard, very hard, he confirmed, trying to smile. A German teacher, Anna is looking for the best way to describe what she’s been through since the Boutcha bullets.

This is a whole new level of hell. Or so fifty colors of pain. How to properly describe a pile of physical and mental illness?

” All the sensations were different in my legs and in my back. The child I was carrying was gone. I can’t sleep … and not just because of nightmares. I’m too sick to sleep. “

For the first few weeks, she claims she spent them naked in her hospital bed. Too painful to wear clothes. Do you think? I had to lie on my back; I can’t sit, I can’t eat. It was horrible. I haven’t fully recovered yet, but I can say yes, it’s better than March.

He still gets angry when he doesn’t do the things he used to do. The doctors reminded me that three months ago I could do nothing. It gives me patience.

A whole life to rebuild

But it is not just the body that needs to be adjusted. There is also a whole life to rebuild. I have a whole list of plans, preferencesexplanation of the maid, showing her cell phone.

More than sixty goals to achieve, dreams to achieve. Some are very ambitious and others are more modest. Most are too personal to share them.

One of my little wishes was to have coffee at my favorite restaurant. It’s not that far, but I can’t walk there. Not immediately. He also dreams of visiting Portugal, to drive his own car.

Miia’s dog also survived. A nurse who took care of Anna is now taking care of the animal. They were in western Ukraine, quite far from Boutcha and the war.

Anna often receives photos and videos of the dog. Sometimes he answers it with voice messages in hopes of not forgetting its voice. A rare link to his life then.

I didn’t really cry

The girl knew she was vulnerable and she tried to protect herself as best she could. He even refused to admit his parents to the hospital. The fear of being too affected by their anxiety. To cry.

Am I not mentally hurt? he asked the doctors and psychologists. Specialists assured him: yes, everything is fine in his mind. He is rational, not afraid, or very angry.

Anna couldn’t believe it. I’m not entirely right. Self -examination revealed to him a fact: I was afraid to go back to Boutcha, and especially on that road.

Kyiv, though very close to Boutcha, seemed safer than him. He wanted to stay here, the time to strengthen his muscles, regain his freedom and build a new life.

A life to be rebuilt, where tears seem to have no space. To be honest, I didn’t really cryunless the pain is unbearable.

The war seemed entrenched in the maiden’s soul, overwhelmed, mastered. But he was still there. I’ve seen too many things. It’s still in front of me.

At 32, a woman haunted by what she saw in Boutcha. And because he would never really understand.

My husband is a very accommodating, very sensitive, very generous and very loving man. He was a very positive man. I don’t know why it happened to us, to our family. Throughout Ukraine. I do not know.