Last week, Sarah al-Qadi was killed in an Israeli airstrike on the town of Bazaliyah in Lebanon's Bekaa region . But the young teacher was not killed alone — the twins she carried for seven months with care and anticipation also perished with her, triggering a mix of grief and anger as news of the tragedy spread across local media.
Another young mother, Ghada Fadel, whose twin baby boys are not yet two weeks old, said they are spending their first days in a displacement shelter in Amchit, northern Lebanon. She shared on Facebook that her babies were one month premature because of the "terror" she experienced as she fled her home in southern Lebanon for the shelters. Without access to an incubator for two days, the twins would have surely died. UN refugee agency UNHCR estimates that Israeli strikes on Lebanon have displaced more than 1.3 million people, over half of them women and girls.
"Today, more than 13,500 pregnant women in Lebanon are affected by the escalating crisis," Anandita Philipose, representative of the United Nations Population Fund (UNFPA) in Lebanon, told The New Arab .
"In every crisis, women and girls face specific risks that threaten their lives, and the current one is no exception. Women do not stop giving birth simply because there is conflict. Our mission is to ensure they can do so safely," Philipose added. Thousands of these women are living in tents, overcrowded flats, or with relatives. Such conditions deprive pregnant women of safe and private environments, while also limiting access to maternal healthcare, while navigating daily life marked by hunger and fear. Pregnant and displaced In a crowded government-run shelter in Sidon, sisters Hanaa and Nariman Barbish, both six months pregnant, share a classroom with about 45 others after fleeing their hometown of Ansar in southern Lebanon.
"We eat the same food provided to everyone in the centre, but it is insufficient and doesn’t meet the needs of pregnant women," Nariman told The New Arab . "We are often left hungry, and most meals contain beans and rice, which causes constipation and stomachache."
Hanaa talks about the harsh sleeping conditions on the floor and their inability to afford the regular check-ups they used to have.
The greatest challenge, the sisters said, is the shared bathrooms — one used by an entire floor, practically serving hundreds of people. "We must wait our turn, then sanitise the toilet every time," they said. But despite the precautions, they still contracted fundal infections and skin irritations, explained Nariman.
Pregnancy itself has become a psychological burden. "We live under the pressure of constant news, lack of privacy, and fear of the future. If the war continues, how will we give birth? Where? How can we afford it? And where will we raise the children?" asked Nariman.
Also displaced to Sidon, Nourhane Mallah, faces even more severe conditions as she approaches the final stretch with barely four weeks before her due date. But she looks too fragile to withstand the pain of childbirth.
"Yesterday the doctor told me the baby is still small," Nourhane told The New Arab . "I also have an iron deficiency and varicose veins that have reached the uterus." At 39, she said, her age adds further risk, requiring specialised care, proper nutrition, and no stress.
"The displacement journey itself was exhausting," she continued. "It took six hours instead of 25 minutes because of the congestion."
But the hardship did not end there. "A few days after arriving at the shelter, I caught a virus that caused high fever, diarrhoea, and vomiting, and I was hospitalised." Overcrowding, fear, and constant stress all affected her, she said.
The stress alone will take its toll, says Zahraa Zorkot, a pregnant woman displaced from Sarafand, who is now staying with a friend’s family. Despite her relatively stable conditions, despite the lack of privacy, anxiety persists, Zahraa told The New Arab . "Stress is a constant companion, especially combined with the fear when moving during ongoing attacks," she says.
Five months pregnant, 36-year-old Zahraa is expecting twins following gruelling IVF trials. Volunteering care A group of doctors from the Lebanese University volunteered to provide remote medical consultations to IDPs. Gynaecologist Rawan Azqi is one of them.
Dr Rawan told The New Arab that she has taken on pregnant women who were not her patients, offering free consultations via WhatsApp and free or low-cost services depending on each woman’s financial situation.
She said that displaced pregnant women in shelters face numerous health risks. "Many of these shelters are not suitable for living, especially for pregnant women who are more vulnerable to gynaecological infections, urinary tract infections, and communicable diseases due to overcrowding and poor hygiene conditions," Dr Rawan told The New Arab .
Stress and anxiety levels, she said, vary depending on the areas they fled from and where they settled.
She said she observed cases of premature birth and some instances of bleeding, “though all remains under control.”
Poor nutrition and lack of access to medication and vitamins, she said, are among the most pressing challenges.
Dr Rawan noted that Lebanon's health ministry covers 100% of delivery costs in public hospitals, providing crucial support "though it does not remove the daily challenges they face." Grassroots initiatives The Lebanese government's response to the 2026 war has been heavily dependent on international aid, falling short of the vast needs.
Cash assistance sits at the core of the response, with World Food Program (WFP)-backed transfers helping families cover basic needs. UNICEF and ILO have also provided one-off payments of around $100 to 6,000 families with children and people with disabilities. Yet there is no dedicated support for pregnant women, leaving them to face heightened risks with only limited, general aid.
UN agencies warn that women in conflict settings are around five times more likely to die during pregnancy or childbirth than those in stable countries.
These risks are compounded by attacks on the healthcare system. Israeli strikes have closed at least four hospitals and 51 primary healthcare centres across southern Lebanon, and have killed at least nine paramedics in a single day.
To ease the burden on pregnant women, grassroots efforts such as the Shabebik Association have stepped in.
Faten Zein, head of Shabebik, told The New Arab that they began relief work in the early days of the displacement. "Initially, we received four cases of pregnant women, but the number quickly shot up," she said.
The association launched a donation campaign to provide essential supplies and vitamins, in coordination with affordable and free hospitals like Karantina and Beirut Governmental Hospital, to receive cases and facilitate deliveries. The group has also recently partnered with a specialist doctor to monitor cases.
Faten emphasised that needs far exceed available resources. "Donations are often in-kind," she said, "which sometimes forces us to barter them with other organisations to meet specific needs." Jeyetna (Arabic slang for "we are menstruating") is a grassroots collective founded in 2021 to campaign against period poverty and advocate for equitable access to menstrual care. In the current war, it has expanded its scope to include pregnant displaced women as a priority group.
"The situation is extremely time-sensitive," Vanessa Zammar, Jeyetna's co-founder, told The New Arab . "We work on a case-by-case basis, providing small postpartum kits that include maternity pads, iron supplements, painkillers, nipple care products for breastfeeding, stool softeners, and hot water bottles," she shared. "We are seeing increased period pain and menstrual irregularities due to stress, cold, and discomfort. There is a very clear link between war, displacement, menstrual cycles, and reproductive health. We are doing our best to respond, but the needs are immense," said Vanessa. Fadia Jomaa is a Lebanese journalist from southern Lebanon, specialising in human interest stories. This article is published in collaboration with Egab .