Lilit Grigoryan worked as a district obstetrician at the Mother and Child Healthcare Center of the Republic of Artsakh until September 19, 2023. Her beloved profession for 20 years was entirely related to monitoring the health of pregnant women registered at the women’s clinic.
“We did not imagine that the blockade would last for months and the difficulties we would still have to go through. The situation of pregnant women in those conditions was extremely difficult, especially in terms of food. Many were turning to the Center to terminate their pregnancies, and we were trying to dissuade them from taking that step. Thank God, we were able to convince some of them, and thanks to our persuasions, babies were born. The shortage of food could not but affect women’s health. Most pregnant women came to the clinic hungry and fainted in queues. During the complete blockade, when half a loaf of bread was allotted to a person, most of the population could not even afford it,” the district obstetrician noted.
Lilit’s mother is bedridden and has a gastrointestinal ulcer. Our interlocutor takes care of her mother alone. Her mother’s condition worsened especially after the 44-Day War in 2020, when she lost her husband. Lilit’s 70-year-old father had cancer and a stent in his heart. The 1990s freedom fighter could not come to terms with the fact of the capitulation signed in November, and his health problems worsened.
“My father insisted that he should return and depart his life in his home. On November 15, we returned to Stepanakert, and the next day my father died. My mother has been bedridden for 2 years and we faced many problems during the blockade. There was no food, the gas supply was disrupted, the electricity was intermittent, and sometimes there was no water. My neighbors shared what they had: they brought a couple of cucumbers, tomatoes, carrots, and apples. We only had one loaf of bread, and my neighbors helped me so that I wouldn’t have to stand in lines at night,” Lilit described her situation under the harsh conditions of the blockade.
The situation gradually worsened and the Armenians of Artsakh found themselves in a desperate situation. On September 19, the district obstetrician was at work and had to examine pregnant women who had come from the regions. They were already worried about the aggravated situation.
“A terrible commotion began after the first explosions. Pregnant women began to scream, wail, and cry…one’s child was at school, the other’s was in kindergarten. The doctors ordered everyone to go down to the basement and only those giving birth and those with premature babies remained in the wards. All my thoughts were with my bedridden mother. She was alone at home and could not go down to the basement and there was no one to open our door. When everyone went down to the basement, I rushed to my mother. I went out, but my legs became weak, they were shaking, I could not walk… there were constant explosions, shelling, and I was thinking, God forbid, a shell explodes near our building, what will my mother do? At that moment, the husband of one of our pregnant women stopped the car and took me to our building. I ran to open our door and saw my mother’s face frozen in fear. She couldn’t speak, she was frozen…”, Lilit recalled.
After the ceasefire was announced, Lilit and most of the Armenians of Artsakh did not imagine that in a few days they would be forced to evacuate.
“When people started leaving their homes, I was in an unspeakable state of shock, my mother could not even walk, we were left alone. My brother’s friend took it upon himself to evacuate us. He miraculously survived near the tankers during the explosion of the fuel depot. We evacuated on September 29. We put my mother in the back seat and set off with one suitcase. We were hungry and thirsty for three days, and I had given my mother about 20 painkillers so that she could at least sleep. I closed my eyes when I crossed the border so that I wouldn’t see the Azerbaijanis, and they let us go without checking,” the Artsakh woman said.
Lilit cannot accept her current status: she dreams and prays about returning to Stepanakert, liberated from the enemies.
Now the mother and daughter are in a difficult situation, especially in this period of winter and widespread inflation. They live in a studio with a rent of 150 thousand drams [about $380]. The mother’s 2nd group disability pension has been reduced by 13 thousand, and the 40-thousand-dram pension is not even enough for medicines. And to the 50 thousand drams allocated, they add another 50 for paying the utility bills. Lilit could not solve the employment issue for months and, in order to somewhat survive, only since July of last year she was desperately placed as a nurse in a dental clinic with a low salary. They are in dire need of support and, as Lilit confessed, at least the problem of medicines should be solved.
P.S. Those who wish to help can call 097-22-55-62 (Lilit).
Zara Mayilyan
