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Taimaa Abazli, 24, holds her new baby Heln in their tent at the Karamalis camp in Thessaloniki, Greece, September 2016.
Taimaa Abazli, 24, holds her new baby Heln in their tent at the Karamalis camp in Thessaloniki, Greece, September 2016.Lynsey Addario—Verbatim for TIME
Taimaa Abazli, 24, holds her new baby Heln in their tent at the Karamalis camp in Thessaloniki, Greece, September 2016.
Taimaa Abazli, 24, with her newborn daughter, Heln, born by C-section on Sept. 13 at a hotel outside Thessaloniki, Greece. Her first child, Wael, sits with them. Taimaa and her husband, Muhannad 28, are from Idlib, Syria, near the border with Turkey, Sept. 19, 2016.
Syrian refugee Taimaa Abazli, 24, walks with her children, Heln born Sept. 13, and Wael, 2, in Thessalonki, Greece, Nov. 10, 2016.
Taimaa Abazli, 24, with her newborn daughter, Helen, born by C-section on Sept. 13 in their tent in the Karamalis refugee camp in Thessaloniki, Greece, Sept. 26, 2016.
Sanaa Mattar Razzouk, 23, from Deir ez-Zor struggles during labor. She gave birth to her second child on Sept. 27, 2016. Her husband, Hamza Adnan Khzam, 25, said: “My first child was born as a refugee in Turkey,” ...this one in Greece. They are children of no country.” Pointing to the sky, he added, “they are God’s children now, and God will take care of them.”
Sanaa Mattar Razzouk, 23, from Deir ez-Zor gave birth to her second child in a hospital in Thessaloniki, Greece, Sept. 27, 2016.
Sanaa Mattar Razzouk, 23, from Deir ez-Zor, Syria, gave birth to her second child on Sept. 27, 2016, Her husband, Hamza Adnan Khzam, 25, said: “My first child was born as a refugee in Turkey,” ...this one in Greece. They are children of no country.” Pointing to the sky, he added, “they are God’s children now, and God will take care of them.”
23-year-old pregnant Illham Alarabi with her four sons and husband, Minhel Alsaleh, 39, in their tent in the Oreokastro refugee camp in Thessaloniki, Greece, Sept. 8, 2016. They are both from Deir ez-Zor, Syria.
For Ilham Alarabi, 23, taking care of four boys in a refugee camp with no school, no playground and no outside space is exhausting, Her days are spent cooking, cleaning and taking care of the children with only the barest assistance. She looks forward to spending four days in a hospital room with a bathroom, when she gives birth to her fifth son, Sept 20, 2016.
Illham Alarabi, 23. gets a check-up at a hospital in Thessaloniki, Greece, Sept. 2016. The hospital is a half-hour drive from the camp where she lives. The United Nations fund for families and women says that the number of pregnant refugees and young children born into camps with little or no resources is on the rise, while Greece's healthcare system is overtaxed, Sept 20, 2016.
Baby Faraj, nicknamed Hamoudi, was born Oct. 2, 2016. He lies in his families tent in the Oreokastro refugee camp, Thessaloniki, Greece, Nov. 9, 2016. He is the youngest of five sons born to Ilham Alarabi, 23, and her husband, Minhel, from Deir ez-Zor, Syria.
Suad Sayed Iessa is a mother of three from Idlib, Syria. The 25-year-old refugee spent the first six months of her pregnancy escaping war and the past three months in a refugee camp in Thessaloniki, Greece with limited access to prenatal care. Because of complications with her pregnancy, emergency surgery was required. Suad barely understood what was going on and nearly died. She delivered her daughter, Hamida, by cesarean section. Her husband, Thaer Sannaa, 37, believes poor sanitation and inadequate food led to her problems, Sept. 30, 2016.
Suad Sayed Iessa, 25, undergoes an emergency cesarean section and a hysterectomy in a hospital in Thessaloniki, Greece. After her baby Hamida, was delivered, a team of Greek surgeons and nurses worked more than four hours to save Suad’s life. Suad and her husband, Thaer Sannaa, 37, are from Idlib, Syria, where he was a businessman, Sept. 30, 2016.
Thaer Sannaa, 37, looks on as his wife Suad Sayed Iessa, 25, is wheeled on a gurney in the hospital in Thessaloniki, Greece where emergency surgery was required to deliver her baby girl, Hamida, who was born on Sept. 30, 2016.
Dejla Alloush, 25, with her son and infant born on Oct. 6, 2016 at a camp in Thessaloniki, Greece. She and her husband Mohammad, 40, are from Aleppo. Dejla is Mohammad's second wife. Because his first wife, Khelat, couldn't have children, he married Dejla. Dejla worries she will be separated from her four children by Europeans who do not understand polygamous marriages, Nov. 11, 2016.
Nourelhuda Altallaa sleeps with her new baby daughter, Rahaf, in her tent at the Oreokastro refugee camp in Thessaloniki, Greece where she lives with her husband, Yousef. They are from Deir ez-Zor, Syria. In 2014, Yousef left school in Deir ez-Zor and moved to a small nearby town to escape induction in the Syrian Army. Once ISIS took control of the town, fearing for his life, he and Nour married and left Syria. Rahaf was born on Nov. 1, 2016.
Yousef Alarsan holds his newborn baby daughter Rahaf, while his wife Nourelhuda, stands behind them in their tent in the Oreokastro camp, Nov. 8, 2016. The 22-year-old first time mother was terrified of giving birth alone in a foreign country. When she was still in the early stages of her pregnancy, she and her husband crossed the Syrian border into Turkey by foot. They then hired a smuggler to make the crossing to Greece. Rahaf was born Nov. 1, 2016.
Taimaa Abazli, 24, holds her new baby Heln in their tent at the Karamalis camp in Thessaloniki, Greece, September 2016.
Lynsey Addario—Verbatim for TIME
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The Story Behind TIME's Year-Long Multimedia Project 'Finding Home'

Dec 19, 2016

“What would you do if you were me?” This is the question Taimaa Abazli asked TIME as she held her 13-day-old baby girl in a shabby hotel room in Thessaloniki, Greece. On February 10, 2016, 24-year-old Taimaa fled Syria with her husband and two-year-old son, leaving by foot in the dead of night. She was six weeks pregnant. Over two weeks, they drove through Turkey, eventually boarding a rubber dinghy bound for Greece. She, like the thousands of women who continue to live their lives in spite of such catastrophic disruption, astonish me.

There’s no shortage of heart wrenching photographs from the Syrian refugee crisis, but the pictures that have moved me most are of the delicate, tiny babies: the one born on a rocky beach on the Greek coast; the five-day-old newborn handed from person to person off a raft; the week-old baby wrapped tightly to his mother as she walks for miles along the train tracks in Hungary. What has become of these little people? In the midst of so much chaos, hundreds of babies are being born in Greek hospitals and cared for by families that have nothing but an unknown future.

lynsey-addario_babyLynsey Addario, pictured here, holding Pollack's baby girl in April 2016. 

It was on my maternity leave earlier this year that I recognized how truly magnificent these women must be to keep moving forward in spite of such immense challenges. My own baby girl, Edie, was born in a New York City hospital last January and after a few days in the hospital, we fastened her into her new car seat, hopped in an cab and brought her home. How magnificent, but how hard those first few months can be.

But looking at these photos, all I could think about were the newborn refugees and their mothers. They haunted me. How are these women breastfeeding when they themselves don’t have proper nutrition? How are they sleeping through the night while living outside? How are they ensuring that their newborns are gaining enough weight in that first critical month?

Even though I am the Director of Photography at TIME, and I look at powerful but difficult work every day, it often strikes me that sometimes even the most devastating pictures are not enough to bring attention to a global crisis. That’s why this time, we are approaching this story in a new way.

I have worked with the photographer Lynsey Addario for more than 15 years. Like most of the photographers I work with, I knew her painterly and poetic pictures before I knew the woman behind the camera. Lynsey is a powerhouse—a fierce journalist with a fiery passion to tell the truth about the great injustices of the world. Lynsey is known as a brave war photographer, and has received accolades for her front-line reporting, but day in and day out, she has documented the lives of some of the most voiceless women in the world.

Now, she turns her lens on four babies born to displaced Syrian refugees who are currently living in northern Greek camps.

TIME is launching a year-long multimedia project on the refugee crisis told through the lives of four babies: Rahaf, Heln, Hamida and Faraj. Over the next year, international correspondent Aryn Baker, video producer Francesca Trianni and Lynsey will report on the lives of these babies and their parents as they navigate an uncertain future while searching for home.

Visit TIME.com/Finding-Home and follow the Instagram feed on @FindingHome

Lynsey Addario, a frequent TIME contributor, has received support from Verbatim and the UNFPA for the Finding Home project.

Kira Pollack is the Director of Photography and Visual Enterprise at TIME.

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