A woman from Lori region who lost her only son in the 44-day war is looking for a chance to become a mother for the second time.
Karine Dallakyan, 56, who lives in the village of Darpas, Lori region, spends most of her day in the room of her son, Karen, who died in the Yeghnikner military unit. The mother hung photos of the boy on all the walls of Karen’s former room. For a year and a half now, she has been filling the absence of her only son by talking to the photos in the room every day.
“I put a lot of pictures to walk in and feel Karen’s spirit, to talk to him, to communicate with him. There is a moment when I get angry, why should I not feel his breath and talk just to his pictures? I’m still waiting for my Karen.”
Mrs. Karine’s only son died in Yeghnikner unit. He was 20 years old. He had just three months left before returning home from the army. After the loss of Karen, Karine Dallakyan wants to become a mother again.
“I am very distressed. I want Karen’s continuation, to have have a child, so that I feel that a part of Karen is alive. I have applied, but they have set an age limit: I am 56 years old, and you can have a child with that program only up to 53 years old now. I do not know who to turn to, what to do,” she says.
Mrs. Karine’s desire to become a mother, however, met with state restrictions. In February 2021, the government decided to support the mothers of war victims to use the services of a surrogate mother free of charge, at the same time setting an age limit. According to the decision, only women under the age of 53 can use this program. Ms. Karine hopes that the government or the Ministry of Health will make an exception for her and give her the opportunity to become a mother.
“Before, I thought a lot that my age would allow me to have another child after my child. But now, I want at least to live for that child. I want that child to make me live, struggle, I want to feel that I am needed by someone. I only had Karen: he was a miracle.”
Mrs. Karine lost contact with her son Karen Avetyan on October 5. She hoped that her son was not killed, but the absence of calls was just a result of communication problems.
“The last time we talked was on October 5: after that there was no contact. He always said excitedly, that all was well, that there was nothing going on in their area. The last time we talked, he was talking in despair, saying, “Mom, I wish I came home, just came… He did not know what to do. In their area, the drones were attacking a lot. They were four friends: they fought together and got killed together. Since October 5 there was no communication. We were consoling ourselves by thinking that the kids were well; it was just a communication problem.
On September 27, I heard on TV that it was a war and… I froze. I did not know what to do at that moment. I always imagined it would be over in four days. I was sure that nothing will happen to my Karen. He too, when calling, always said ‘Mom, nothing will happen here, everything is fine here, dear, all is good here, it is calm, Kyokh is with us, he will not let anything happen to us’, the mother recalls.
Throughout the interview, Karen’s father, Gagik Avetyan, sat in a chair next to his son’s photos. He has a hard time remembering how the news of her son’s loss was reported.
“I am about to cry… I was keeping cattle. The villagers came and started one by one taking things from my hands… we learned that they brought our kid and he was in the morgue,” says the father and the words get lost in tears.
“The whole village went to the morgue: they knew, but we did not. Then, our friends, relatives came to our house. As soon as I saw them, I understood, Iwent crazy, I went mad, I yelled, ‘Why did you come’?” Mrs. Karine continues her husband’s story.
Narek Kirakosyan