WANA (Aug 03) – Just a few minutes had passed since midnight on the first day of spring, but before the scent of Nowruz could fill the city, the roar of enemy fighter jets echoed in the sky. At that exact moment, in the delivery room of a maternity hospital in southern Tehran, a baby’s cry broke out—a sound louder than any explosion amidst the chaotic din of war, proclaiming the victory of life.

 

A mother shed tears of joy, a midwife took a sigh of relief, and the doctor placed the baby gently in the mother’s arms. At that very moment, a shockwave from an explosion a few kilometers away shook the building’s windows; yet no one moved. It was as if everyone knew a mission greater than fear was underway in that room: safeguarding the moment called “birth.”

 

During those days when Iranian cities were targeted, the fires of war did not spare children, newborns, pregnant women, or the sick. Even hospitals—universally recognized as safe havens for human life—were not immune; some were damaged, some had to partially evacuate, and others continued working relentlessly under threat.

 

Yet no matter how severe, war could never erase one simple truth: life always finds a way to go on. Alongside the tragic news of casualties and destruction, every baby’s cry was a living response to war—proof that life is tougher than death.

 

 

The heroes of this story wore white coats, hiding their fears behind smiles so that mothers wouldn’t sense anxiety. The fate of a land isn’t written solely on the battlefield; sometimes it is shaped in a delivery room where, just a few steps away, an explosion shakes the glass, yet the lights never go out.

 

Mahdiyeh Hospital is one of those untold chapters—a facility that refused to let the miracle of birth stop. Dr. Shahrzad Zademodarres, head of Mahdiyeh Hospital, recalls managing the facility under the shadow of the “Ramadan War” and the attacks by the U.S. and Israel:

 

“You can’t tell it all at once; every corner has its own story. Despite experiencing the 8-year Sacred Defense and the 12-Day War, the Ramadan War was a completely different experience under very extraordinary circumstances.”

A Woman's Tale of War: Life-Saving Vests for Newborns

Dr. Shahrzad Zademodarres, head of Mahdiyeh Hospital. Social media/ WANA News Agency

She continues: “On February 28th, while walking with the management team to inspect the wards, we heard a massive explosion. We stopped right there, canceled our plans, returned to the office, and immediately formed a crisis management team. We were prepared beforehand; training conducted after the 12-Day War—such as crisis and stress management, handling mass casualties, advanced CPR, fire safety, and regular drills—proved invaluable in managing the situation quickly.

 

Our main initial challenge was staffing, as a hospital cannot operate remotely. We quickly consolidated wards, restructured shifts, and replaced regular schedules with our pre-planned monthly crisis program. We asked on-duty staff to stay up to 72 hours if possible, and allowed others time to arrange care for their families so they could return for subsequent shifts worry-free.”

 

With women making up nearly 90% of the hospital staff, management was particularly tough. Zademodarres notes: “A major challenge involved pregnant staff and those with nursing infants or children under six. To solve this, we set up living quarters inside the hospital for doctors, nurses, and their families to enable consolidated shifts; for instance, if a nurse stayed for three consecutive days, her family could stay as well.”

 

This sacrifice took place in a hospital delivering 400 to 500 babies a month. Zademodarres adds: “Our primary concern was maintaining quality care and preventing staff burnout so services remained uninterrupted, as expectant mothers needed calmness above all. Maintaining team readiness for deliveries and safe care in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU) was critical.”

 

 

The biggest challenge was premature infants connected to life-support equipment in the NICU. The hospital director explains: “We prioritized early discharge for stable infants to clear space, moved cribs away from windows to safer areas, and reinforced window glass.”

 

She added, “In every shift, nurse leaders reviewed emergency evacuation responsibilities so everyone knew which infant they were accountable for. Furthermore, based on a nurse’s idea, custom aprons/vests featuring three large pouches were quickly designed and sewn, allowing a single nurse to safely evacuate three newborns simultaneously during emergencies.”

 

Amidst handling deliveries, attacks on the capital forced another duty upon the hospital: accepting war casualties. Recalling an attack a few kilometers away, Zademodarres says: “The blast shockwave shook our building. In less than 10 minutes, about 25 to 30 injured or shock-stricken individuals arrived. Triage and emergency care were delivered immediately, with specialized cases transferred promptly.”

 

She also points to the silent impact of war on pregnant women—mothers whose names never appear on casualty lists, yet suffer physical and emotional trauma: “Many arrived having panic attacks. Fear was natural, and its effects on expectant mothers were obvious; some even delayed routine medical visits out of fear. War-induced stress caused physical issues such as abnormal bleeding, uterine contractions, and premature labor, causing potentially irreversible harm.”

 

Yet, the spirit of selflessness shone bright. Zademodarres concludes: “The enemy thought they could break our spirit, but solidarity only grew. One of our nurses, whose husband and children live in a neighboring country, returned to Iran immediately when attacks began, saying, ‘I must be beside my colleagues and patients.’ She voluntarily volunteered for the hardest shifts without hesitation.”

A view of debris following an Israeli and U.S. strike on Gandhi Hotel Hospital, amid the U.S.-Israel conflict with Iran, in Tehran, Iran, March 2, 2026. Majid Asgaripour/WANA (West Asia News Agency)