The loss of a pregnancy, no matter how early, is never an easy thing.

Stage One: Denial

Denial is defined as: Becoming angry and irritable when reference is made to the condition. This helps to avoid the issue. Ziva knew that she should have the courage to face what was happening to her. However, she refused to accept what was happening to her. The baby had finally started to seem real. The first fluttering movements had driven home the fact that she was going to be a mom. She was nearly sixteen weeks pregnant, but her doctor's visit that day had not gone as planned. It seemed as that her body was rebeling against the tiny life that rested inside her.

She closed her eyes and let the tears flow freely from her eyes. She took this as her punishment. Her baby was paying for her deeds. For all the innocent and not so innocent lives that she herself took. No matter how she looked at it, she supposed that this was just payment for her deeds.

She and Tony had only been married for three months when she found out that she was pregnant. At first, she had been scared. Scared of telling Tony. They had wanted to wait at least a year before they had a baby. However, it seemed that fate had other ideas for them. So, she told him one morning when they were on their way to work. The smile on his face made her feel better than she had in days.

The morning had started out bright and sunny. She had kissed Tony and headed off to her doctor's appointment. It was supposed to be just a routine visit. They were going to check her vital signs and make sure that the pregnancy was progressing normally and that the baby was growing according to schedule. She had no indication that anything was wrong. Everything seemed blissfully normal that morning. She felt happy and even sang along to the songs on the radio.

She knew that something was wrong the moment she saw the doctor's face. It told her that there was something wrong. Even if his words had broken through the fog that had enveloped her brain. She heard words like, no fetal heartbeat. Incompetent cervix. Termination of pregnancy.

She heard the words, but could not comprehend their meaning. She sat up and took the piece of paper that the doctor handed her. It had instructions for her to follow. The doctor scheduled a D&C for the following morning at the hospital.

She remembered very little of the drive home from the doctor's office that day. She climbed the stairs to their bedroom and climbed into bed. Still fully clothed. She closed her eyes and tried to pretend that the day was just a bad dream.

When Tony came home that day, she knew that it was not a dream. She remembered telling him about the doctor's visit. She saw the look that passed over his face. She remembers him crawling into bed beside her and holding her while she cried. She remembered the feeling of his strong arms around her while she cried. Most of all she remembered feeling as if this was all her fault somehow. That it was something she did or did not do to cause their baby to die.

The following morning was just as sunny as the previous one had been. She remembered waking up and feeling her gently rounded stomach. She remembered thinking that the doctor had been wrong. That she was still pregnant and that the baby was okay and would be born in a little over five months. It was to be their Christmas baby. Even though she did not really celebrate Christmas, it was still a special time for Tony. So, it would make it just as special for her.

She was downstairs making breakfast and whistling a tune when Tony brought up what had happened yesterday. She shook her head and steadfastly refused to talk about it. She broke down into tears when he insisted that it was true. Their baby was gone. It could not be gone. She still felt pregnant. The baby was still inside of her. Just below her heart. It was only when Tony mentioned the hospital visit today that she broke down into tears. She threw a vase at him, stormed from the room and slammed the door to their bedroom. She steadfastly denied that their baby was destined to never be born.

It was hard for Tony to take her to the hospital that day. She kicked and fought him the entire time. He finally managed to get her into the car. He hated seeing her cry. It nearly killed him to watch the tears running silently down her cheeks. He wished that he could take her grief for his own. Make it apart of himself, rather than what it was doing to her.

Coming home that night was worse than anything they had donw before. Ziva wouldn't talk to him. Wouldn't look at him. She didn't want to be in the same room with him. It was as if he had committed some vile offense. She thought that he had helped get rid of their baby. So, she isolated herself in their bedroom. Refusing to come out for anything.

Tony had no idea of how to make it better. He didn't know if he could make it better. It seemed like anything he said or did only served to make it worse. So, he did what was possibly the worst thing he could have done. He left her alone. Alone with her thoughts and alone with her tears. He took to sleeping on the couch.

She was so lost in thier big bed. Tony would stand in the doorway and watch her cry. He wanted to do something. Anything to make her feel better, but he had no idea what to do to make her talk to him.

It went on like that for a few weeks. Neither speaking to the other. Ziva drew deeper into herself and isolated herself from their friends and loved ones. Their pain was so deep and so raw that it threatened to devour them whole. It also threatened to pull them apart. For what was once a strong marriage, had become merely a shadow of a once strong relationship...