The Birth of a Child
Ziva gives birth to Tali; 18 June 2014
Chapter 1 First Week in June 2014
"Doda, you do NOT need to stay with me!" Ziva was adamant in her protests when Nettie insisted that she move in with Ziva temporarily.
"Yes, I do. Your due date is almost here and your baby could be born any time now. Who is going to take you to the hospital when it is time?" Nettie could be just as hard-headed as her niece.
Ziva sighed, "I can take care of myself!"
"Not if you are in labor," Nettie would not back down. She took her suitcase into the guest bedroom, trying to shut down the argument. Ziva was so stubborn sometimes, but Nettie knew she came by it honestly. Rivka had been just as stubborn and had apparently passed the trait on to her oldest daughter. Nettie reminisced about similar discussions between her Ima and her sister when Rivka was pregnant with Ziva and between herself and Rivka when Tali was in the womb.
Ziva threw her hands up in exasperation. Just because she was pregnant did not mean she could not take care of herself. Even Orli had been pushing for Ziva to have Nettie stay with her. She had half expected Nettie and Orli to show up together, perhaps with Schmeil in tow, to convince her. "Fine, you can stay, but DO NOT try to smother me, please."
Nettie turned to her niece, "Perhaps I should call Tony now? You need him to be here."
"No, I do not NEED anyone. I do not want to disrupt his life in DC," Ziva lied, trying to convince her aunt of her independence. She had been regretting not contacting Tony when she had first found out that she was pregnant. She also regretted insisting that he leave without her. What if she had invited him to stay with her? Ziva shook her head, trying to clear the thoughts of Tony. She could not live on what ifs; she had to focus on the tiny life that would soon consume her time.
"Doda, my due date is not for almost a month; are you really going to stay for the whole month of June?" Ziva again tried to get her Doda to be reasonable.
"Ziva, I was with you at the doctor appointment today. I heard her say that you could give birth any day now and that you most likely would not carry the baby to full term. I am here and I am not leaving until after this baby is born. No more arguments, please!" Nettie felt as though she were arguing with a stubborn child.
Ziva heard her aunt's words and suddenly got very quiet. Nettie watched as her niece sat in the chair in the guest room and stared at the floor. She moved quietly to Ziva's side and put a hand under her chin. "Ziva, look at me," Nettie hated when Ziva retreated into her thoughts like this. "What is it? Why are you so scared?"
"It is nothing, Doda; I am fine," Ziva replied and smiled weakly at her aunt. She made eye contact, knowing that would be enough for Nettie to back off from any questioning. Just then, the baby moved and Ziva let out a small gasp as she felt the kick in the ribs.
"That was not nothing, Ziva," Nettie admonished. Ziva took her aunt's hand and placed it on her abdomen. Nettie felt the next kick and smiled at Ziva. "Oh, the baby is moving again. Does it hurt?"
"Only when it kicks me in the ribs or spine," Ziva smiled back.
"I still do not understand why you would not let the doctor tell you if it is a boy or a girl. If we knew, we could get clothing and bedding and toys for the correct gender," Nettie had been frustrated with Ziva's unwillingness to have the baby's gender revealed. She wouldn't even let the sonography technician tell Nettie the baby's gender, stating that she wanted the sex to be a surprise at birth.
"I want it to be a surprise, Doda," Ziva sighed at the months' old argument between them. "I have plenty of things that are appropriate for a boy or a girl."
"You have nothing pink for a little girl," Nettie protested.
"IF I have a girl, my little girl will not be wearing anything pink, or frilly for that matter. Laila tov, Doda." Ziva kissed her aunt's cheek and hugged the older woman, effectively shutting down the argument for the night.
Ziva went back to her room and prepared herself for bed. As she lay on the sheets, tears softly rolled down her face. The words of the doctor echoed in her head, 'You will probably not carry to full term, Ziva.' Ziva knew that her body had been through hell in Somalia, and that she had been told that she could not get pregnant by several doctors in the subsequent visits and follow-ups from her trauma from the horrors she had endured.
She and Tony had found out that she could indeed get pregnant a little over a year ago. Her body had refused to carry the pregnancy, though, and at about twelve weeks' gestation, she had miscarried. They had both been filled with grief for their lost baby, and they had actually become closer as they worked through the grief together. She smiled through her tears as she remembered their time together last summer; sleeping side by side in this very bed, among other things.
The night in the olive grove under the stars was still vividly embedded in her mind. Oh how they had made love so tenderly, exploring each other as if it were their first time. How Tony had touched her and pleasured her… She was certain that this baby had been conceived that night…
Ziva shook her head, trying to banish the memories and thoughts. Enough of the past, reliving it would not change the decisions she had made. Sending Tony back to DC by himself had been one of the worst decisions she had ever made; she regretted it the moment the door to the plane closed with him inside it. "STOP!" she spoke out loud, admonishing herself that she could not dwell on what ifs.
She sat up as a small cramp crossed her abdomen. Oh, god, not again! Every cramp, every small pain in her abdomen, every flutter inside her had nearly sent her into panic mode since she had read the positive results on the home pregnancy tests on her previous birthday. She had lost one baby and it had hurt the one and only person who mattered the most to her. She could not hurt him that way again, so she had made the difficult decision to not tell Tony of her pregnancy. When asked by the doctor about the baby's father, she had said that he was out of the picture.
She glanced down at her swollen belly and stood up slowly. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the distinct outline of a tiny foot just below her navel. The baby was stretching out again and the pushing against her abdominal wall was the source of the cramp. She ran her hands over her belly, rubbing gently, a trick she had discovered to calm the baby. She sat in the rocking chair that she had put in her room by the bassinette with its yellow and green blankets that waited its new occupant. As she rubbed her belly, she sang softly, "Numi, numi, numi, nim…"
The lullaby that her Ima had sung to her, and then she had sung to her little sister Tali calmed her as well as the baby. Ziva fell asleep in the rocker as her baby settled for the night.