On Monday, the courtyard of Nasser Medical Complex in Khan Younis in the southern Gaza Strip was filled with a mixture of tears, laughter, and long-held anticipation.
Eight Palestinian families had come together for a moment they had dreamed of for two years: a reunion with their premature babies, who had been evacuated to Egypt for treatment after the Israeli raid on Al-Shifa Hospital during the offensive on Gaza in November 2023.
For many, the wait had been unbearable. Parents had lived in constant fear for their children's survival, relying on distant phone calls, updates from medical teams, and fragments of news from humanitarian organisations.
Now, as the infants were carried into the courtyard, tiny hands reached out, faces squinting in recognition or, in some cases, confusion.
For parents, it was more than a reunion; it was the culmination of a struggle against death, displacement, and unbearable separation. Pain and hope Sondos Al-Kurd's, 29, heart raced as she waited for the bus carrying the returnees, among them her baby Bissan. The moment she held her daughter, tears streamed down her face.
"When I first saw her, I felt as if life had returned to me […] Her little hands wrapped around my fingers, and I couldn't stop shaking. I couldn't believe she was really here, after all these years," she told The New Arab .
She kissed Bissan's forehead repeatedly, afraid that letting go even for a second might take her away.
"I held her close, and I could feel her tiny heartbeat against mine. It was as if we were finally speaking without words, after years of silence and fear. Every breath she took made me feel alive again, " Sondos said.
The joy of reunion was inseparable from the pain that preceded it. On 22 October 2023, just two weeks after the start of the Israeli offensive , her home in Beit Lahia was hit by missiles and bunker-buster bombs.
"Everything went red, then dark. I was trapped under the rubble, eight months pregnant, and I thought it was the end," she recalled.
Rescued from the wreckage, she was transferred to Al-Shifa Hospital, where doctors warned her survival was uncertain. Hours later, she underwent an emergency cesarean.
Bissan was born fragile, immediately placed in the neonatal intensive care unit under failing machines.
The emotional toll was compounded when Sondos learned her eldest daughter, three-year-old Habiba Al-Rahman, had died under the rubble.
"The day I gave birth; the joy was gone. My beloved was gone," she said.
For months, she could not see Bissan, living between hope and fear until the Red Cross confirmed her survival in Egypt .
"When I knew she was alive, it felt as if life had returned to me. I never imagined I would have this moment," Sondos described. "Every day, I worried she might not survive. And now […] now she is here."
"Every smile from Bissan feels like life after years of darkness, but I still carry the loss of Habiba in my heart," she added. "I want to memorise every second with Bissan. I never want to forget this moment."
Ayat Al-Da'our spent 18 days in the hospital beside her son, who suffered from an enlarged liver.
"Every day was fear, every breath a worry," she recalls. The hospital lights flickered amid intermittent power outages, alarms echoed through the halls, and overworked medical teams navigated extreme pressure to save lives.
Her son was then transferred to the administrative capital of Egypt , where he continued treatment for five months.
"When he returned to Gaza , healthy, it felt like a second birth […] Every smile, every glance from him was life after months of fear," she told TNA .
For Ahmed Al-Harsh from Jabalia refugee camp, the pain was deeper still. An airstrike destroyed his home and killed twelve family members, including his wife.
His premature son had been taken to Egypt at just three weeks old, leaving Ahmed to rely on updates through phone calls from medical staff.
"The hardest feeling was holding my child and realising he did not recognise me. I could only pray from afar," he told TNA .
The reunion, after two years, was overwhelming. "It felt like the world had paused for a moment. Love, fear, and gratitude all at once," al-Harsh described. "I only wish he grows up in peace, far from bombs, far from destruction." Challenges ahead Ahmed Al-Farra, Director of Paediatrics and Obstetrics at Nasser Hospital, told TNA that "these babies were among those taken from Al-Shifa Hospital after the Israeli army stormed it. Some did not survive during the attack; others died en route to Egypt due to extremely difficult conditions."
He explained that the survivors received rudimentary care before being transferred for specialised treatment in Egypt. Their return, he noted, is a significant humanitarian milestone, but also underscored the fragility of Gaza's health sector.
"Our neonatal units remain under strain, under-resourced, and urgently need support," he added.
The reunion is not an end but a beginning of a fragile For these Palestinians families; it is a precious opportunity to rebuild what was lost, to cherish life after unbearable loss, and remind themselves that amid the rubble, love endures.
"This is not just about surviving war," al-Harsh reflected, "it is about giving our children a chance to live, to grow, to know warmth and care despite all that has happened. Today, we have that chance."