'The longest 15 minutes of my life... then we cried': An eye-witness's terrifying account of Iran's shocking attack on Israel

Four huge explosions in the small hours of Sunday morning signalled the start of the attack. The booms shook our apartment. Incredibly, they didn't wake our three-month-old baby, Eden.

In the sky outside our window, my husband David and I, saw flashes and streaks of blinding light. 

We didn't know whether the blasts were coming from the impact of Iranian missiles and drones hitting the city, or if our air defences were intercepting the bombs.

We live on the fourth floor of a 300-year-old building in Talpiot, on the outskirts of Jerusalem. 

In buildings all around us, we could hear people screaming – were they simply terrified, or had they been injured?

In the sky outside our window, my husband David and I, saw flashes and streaks of blinding light. Pictured: Mia Amran and baby Eden 

Pictured: An anti-missile system in Israel intercepting rockets earlier this year launched from the Gaza strip

I first read of the initial warnings of the attack when I looked at my mobile phone just after 7pm on Saturday evening. 

Immediately, David dashed to the local shop for water. Everyone was panic-buying, he said.

We tried to stay calm, but Eden could sense our tension and cried for a long time. 

Eventually, she fell asleep. We didn't. I sat next to the crib, ready to grab her.

When the sirens went off, the noise was harrowing. Our building has no bomb shelter. 

The official advice is for residents to take cover within 90 seconds in the stairwell on the ground floor, the safest place in the event of a bomb strike.

We took our to-go bags containing passports, phones and other essentials and joined our neighbours crowding into the space under the stairs. 

Everyone was in nightwear and dressing gowns – about 30 people from the eight apartments, including three families with young children and teenagers.

The adults stayed calm, but the little ones were crying and very frightened. They were old enough to know we were all in great danger. They couldn't understand why it was happening.

I was holding my baby, trying to breathe deeply. My husband was trembling uncontrollably, with his arms around both of us. 

Parts of a missile launched by Iran are pictured found in Amman, Jordan, on April 14 

Drones or missiles vying for targets at undisclosed locations in northern Israel pictured on April 14

I could tell he felt so much responsibility to protect his young family. All this adrenaline was coursing through our bodies, and we had no way to do anything except wait.

Nobody was talking. We were all silent, praying and thinking of our loved ones. We were waiting for the sirens to start up again.

There's no official 'all clear' alert – the government advice is that it's safe to return to our homes 15 minutes after the sirens end.

That was the longest quarter-of-an-hour of my life.

When we were back in our apartment, and we realised we'd made it through the danger, we were both hit by an overwhelming sadness.

We held each other, letting ourselves cry. And then we had a glass of water, tried to calm our nerves and began regrouping in case it happened again.