Rifiuto: Non Mirena

"... you're going to be learning a number of techniques over the next several weeks that will help you be able to deal with the pain of labor and childbirth."

This is ridiculous. I know how to breathe, I know how to squat, I know how to push, I don't need to take classes on how to do these things. Just tell me when and I'll do them.

"What?" Ziva's head snapped up, to find the coach- a woman in her thirties named Julia- smiling softly at her. "Sorry, I-"

"It's okay, Ziva. Now, we're going to be learning how to do a proper hip-squeeze today." The one good thing about the class, Ziva had to admit, was that Julia didn't stick to a rigid schedule. She taught a little bit of everything during each class. "As well as the four good positions that can be used out of bed during the laboring process."

The Israeli glanced around the room; they were at the local birth center where the classes took place, in a good-sized room; there were plenty of pillows and medicine balls to be used to practice, not that Ziva intended to practice- not that she had much choice. There were about six other couples in the class as well, all in various stages of pregnancy. She glanced at Tim, rolling her eyes.

"Now the four positions that can be used during labor-"

"Standing, squatting, kneeling and sitting." Ziva muttered quietly under her breath.

"Is there a problem?"

But evidently not quiet enough.

She looked up, meeting Julia's gaze. A moment passed before she rolled her shoulders back, "This is ridiculous. All we learn is how to breathe. Well, newssplash, we all know how to breathe! We all know what's going to happen when we go into labor, because our bodies are going to be telling us what to do! We don't need a 'teacher' telling us how to deliver a baby."

Twenty-five minutes later, Ziva slammed the door of the car closed and crossed her arms over her chest, pouting. She glanced at her husband out of the corener of her eye.

"Well, Tony will be interested to know that my wife is the first woman to be kicked out of a Lamaze class."

"I was not kicked out-"

"You were barred, Ziva! Barred, banned, forbidden! Do I need to go on?"

She turned to him. "I don't know why you are so upset. You thought it was just as stupid as I do." Tim rolled his eyes.

"That's not the point I'm trying to make." He replied, starting the car.

"Then what is your point, Timothy?"

"My point is that you drew a knife on the instructor and threatened to gut her with it!"

"I did not threaten to gut her, thought I thought it. And I didn't threaten her at all!"

"You sat there cleaning your nails with your knife. Which, honestly, is fairly tacky, but that's besides the point-"

"What is the point?"

"You got banned from the class." He finally pulled into their parking space and shut the car off, turning to her. "Look, I wasn't any happier than you were to go to those stupid classes, but it gave us something to consider and focus on while we get ready for the baby." She reached out, cradling his face.

"We have each other to focus on, and Amal. We don't need those classes. Our whole focus is going to be on Amal, because it is going to be the day he comes into the world-" She stopped, suddenly realizing what he meant. "Wait, you mean... focus on something other than... than your struggling to remember, don't you?"

Tim nodded, meeting her gaze. "I'm sorry, I just... for a couple hours, my mind wasn't racing; it wasn't trying to find and connect memories together that are no longer there..."

"Oh, Tim... why didn't you say anything?"

"And admit that Lamaze was keeping my mind off my failure to recall my own wife and child?"

She brushed her thumb against his cheek. "You aren't a failure because you can't remember. You were in an accident that took your memory. But you haven't completely forgotten. There are things you do remember. You're remembering new things every day; I see it. You are doing wonderfully, sweetheart. And while... while you aren't the man I remember... you're getting there. Patience, my love." She kissed him softly before getting out of the car.

Tim shut the door softly behind them, turning when he felt Ziva step up behind him. "Come on." She caught his wrist, tugging gently towards the living room. "There's a video I want you to see." He followed, inserting the DVD she indicated into the player before joining her on the sofa. She snuggled into his side, slipping her hand into his as the video began to play.

Soon, an image came up onscreen, one of Ziva nearly seven months earlier. "God, look at how flat your tummy is." She giggled, squeezing his hand.

"Hey sweetheart. It's me. I... I have something important to tell you." She set the camera down on the table, before taking a seat beside the bed and reaching out to take his hand. "I.. I told you a couple weeks ago, and you were... you were really excited, but... but you probably don't remember now. So I'll tell you again." She brought his palm to her mouth, pressing a kiss to the skin, before moving his hand down to her belly.

"Tim... Timothy, listen to me. I... I'm pregnant. You hear me? I'm pregnant. I have your baby growing inside me. Do you hear that, ahuva? You're going to be a daddy. I have... almost eight months left to go, so you have to wake up before then so that you can be there and watch our baby being born. You have to be there to catch him when he comes out, and to hug and kiss him..." She sniffled, reaching up to quickly wipe her eyes before leaning over the bed. "You understand me, Tim? You can't leave me, not yet, not until we're old and grey... you know why? Because I'm pregnant." She pressed a kiss to his bandaged head. "I'm pregnant, Timothy. That means you're going to be a daddy."

Ziva glanced at him, reaching up to wipe the tears off his cheeks. "I came in, and told you that, every day for nearly four months. And then one day... you came back to me. Not the same, with not memory of me, but you still came back. So how can you feel like a failure, Tim? You came back to me. That's what's important. Everything else will come in time. I know it will."