Sloviask, Ukraine - The cry of a newborn echoes in the corridor of the clinical hospital in the Donetsk region of Ukraine.

Young mother Anastasia sits by the window of her room, her 1-day oldest daughter Vasilisa. Although she would love to share this private moment with NPR, she doesn't want to share the family's last name.

Anastasia also has an 18-month-old child at home. Despite the war, the 25-year-old mother wanted to stay in the town where she grew up and the whole family still lived.

"If things are really bad, we will certainly leave," she said. "But as long as it can be tolerated, it's much better to be at home than elsewhere."

With Russian troops now occupying two-thirds of the province, Sloviask is the last working pregnant ward in Donetsk, Ukrainian-controlled.

The industrial town, known for its salt mines and mud bath spas since 2014, has been under constant attack from Russia when the Kremlin-backed separatist forces briefly controlled the town. Today, Sloviask is tired and ragged, but many residents say they are determined to stick with it.

Peace, no matter what

When Russian-backed separatists controlled three months ago, Anastasia was 14 years old and was defeated by Ukrainian forces. The town has been under attack again since Russian President Vladimir Putin began a full-scale invasion of Ukraine in 2022.

Her kids aren't old enough to explain the daily air raid sirens, or why the building is in the rubble. But she hopes they know about peace.

"I don't care what kind of peace we have," Anastasia said. "I just want my kids to be healthy and have no mind."

Traditionally, the country mainly talks about the fact that some Ukrainians in the eastern part of Russia are closer to Russia than Ukraine. With the total war, things changed.

Dr. Valentina Hlushchenko, who demonstrates NPR around the hospital, said whether the region should become part of Russia or Ukraine in 2014 at the beginning of the conflict. Therefore, they no longer discuss it.

"We've already suffered this pain in 2014 - it splits husbands and wives and makes brothers equal to brothers," she said. "Since the full invasion in 2022, it's a total disaster. So it's a closed topic. We don't have these conversations to avoid hurting or offending people. Everyone is just trying to live their own lives."

Hlushchenko said people have been sticking to services or pensions in town. Going elsewhere may also mean rent must be paid.

“We have to provide care for the Ukrainians until the last moment”

A large map of Ukraine hangs on the table of hospital director Volodymyr Ivanenko. He said when Russia invaded in 2022, many staff members fled. But almost everyone is back and now they operate at 90% capacity, through missile strikes, electricity and water cutting.

"We are a Ukrainian health agency and we have to provide care for Ukrainians until the last minute," he said. "Whether it is dangerous is another question."

Ivanenko said several doctors were killed when a missile hit the hospital in 2023.

But he said the hospital must continue to work.

"We know the consequences very well because we treat civilians almost every day and see the nature of their injuries," he said. "But it's a job, like sitting in a trench. You have to live and work."

Pregnant Khrystyna Deshchenko sat on a bench next to her husband Valentyn. She said her contractions had begun. The couple is from nearby Kramatorsk, where Russian missile strikes have killed hundreds of civilians over the past three years.

The couple said they were very worried about the safety of their first child and thought the future for Donetsk province was not very good. They said they plan to move to a safer place like the Kiev suburbs.

“In the east, things happen very quickly,” Valentyn Deshchenko said. “Sometimes, when ballistic missiles are launched, there is not even time to alert. So life here can be a bit painful.”

He said before President Trump was elected, he believed that any peace agreement with Russia would freeze the line of contact between warring countries, giving Ukraine control of a part of Donetsk province. But now he thinks Ukraine will lose everything.

"Trump and Russia will take it away. All our hopes are gone," he said.

"It's horrible for kids. But we're still here"

Even in the war, the children's joyful voices shouted and laughed in a playground next to the Sloviask city hall. The entrance to the building is supported by sandbags. A child is riding a tricycle in front, where the giant portrait of a small town son lying in battle.

Olena Hunchenko clutched her 1-year-old daughter Zlata, who had just learned to walk. She explained how it felt to raise a child in Sloviask.

"Well, let's say it's very dangerous," she said. "Sometimes, when it's loud, it's scary for the kids. But we're still here."

Hunchenko was born and raised in what she said was once an idyllic town. She said that if the Russians did occupy Sloviask, her family would leave - especially because her husband was in the Ukrainian army.

Before the war, Sloviask had a population of about 140,000, but its population has dropped sharply since the full invasion fell to 57,000. Once, the front line was only a few miles away. Now, the Russians are being pushed back at least 50 miles away. But the Russian troops have been growing gradually and slowly returning to Sloviask.

Artem, five, pretending to be a policeman, yelled at another child, pulled his car to the side of the road and fined him for speeding. His father, Dmytro Kluchnikov, looked and smiled.

The 38-year-old grew up in Sloviask. He said the family briefly left in 2022 and moved to towns further west. "But it's expensive, they treat us like our outside world." Here, everything is ours. There is no place like home. ”

The conversation was suddenly pierced by the wail of the air strike sirens.

“He knew the Russians were bombing us and sending drones,” Kruchnikov talks about his son. "He hates them. They are bad guys."

Although he said the Russians were stronger, he spoke to the Ukrainians. But he didn't want to speak the language of his so-called invaders anymore.

So, if the Russians were riding in Sloviask, would they stay?

"We know they want all the Donetsks," he said. "If for any reason, we will leave."

Kruchnikov said he was very angry at everyone (including children) that the Russians killed.

"How do we accept these civilian killers?" he asked. "No, absolutely not. We will never live in a killer country."

Kateryna Malofieva contributed reports in Sloviask, Ukraine. Hanna Palamarenko and Polina Lytvynova of NPR contributed to Kiev.