"You don't understand," she answers.
"Then explain it to me," Roberta suggest.
"I went to my post-partum appointment," she begins.
"To get cleared to resume normal activity?"
Kensi nods, "Yes."
"Are you not cleared to go back to work?"
"I am."
"Is there something wrong?"
"I should have listened. I didn't listen, and now…" she trails off.
"Now what?"
"It's all my fault," the tears begin to form in her eyes.
Roberta touches her arm, "What is your fault?"
"I am…" she can't find the words to answer. She suddenly feels as if there is gravel in her throat. She looks at Robert, and passes her sleeping son to her. She looks around the room, and pulls the trashcan out of the cabinet. She proceeds to vomit into the trashcan. In one arm Roberta holds Jeremiah. With her free hand she holds Kensi's hair back. The episode of emesis resolves, but Kensi doesn't return to a standing position. She remains hunched over the trashcan. The wave of nausea courses through her body for a second time, and she repeats the first episode. After several minutes she is able to recover. Without a word Roberta returns Jeremiah to his crib. When she returns to the kitchen Kensi is rinsing her mouth with tap water. Roberta silently hands her a toothbrush, and toothpaste. She takes the items from her mother in law without a single word. As she brushes her teeth Roberta removes the trash bag, and carries it to the can outside after securely tying the bag. When she returns Kensi has replaced the trash bag, and is waiting for her in the kitchen.
"I'm sorry," she apologizes.
"Kensi, I understand."
"I…" she tries to offer explanation.
"I am assuming that you did not follow your OB/GYN's instructions regarding when you could resume activity."
"No. I did not. I didn't know what the potential complications were if I didn't."
"Did you tell Marty?"
"I informed him that he managed to impregnate me," she nods in confirmation.
"And the rest of it?"
She shakes her head, "How do I go about telling him something like that? How do you explain that your uterus is still trying to return to its normal size, and that it greatly increases your risk of having a miscarriage, which is precisely why you aren't supposed to engage in sexual activity for quite some time after giving birth?"
"You should go try and get some rest. You are already exhausted, and you have to work in the morning."
She nods in agreement, "You're right."
She heads up the stairs into the master bedroom. She climbs under the covers, and closes her eyes. Her body is too tired at this point to fight sleep. She awakens hours later in a puddle of drool to the sound of her alarm clock.
She crawls out of bed, and begins her typical pre-work routine. As she climbs into the shower she realizes that she feels particularly exhausted. She ignores the feeling, as the water hits her skin. Too soon she has to exit the shower. The hair dryer comes out, and removes the moisture from her freshly washed hair. Towels wick away the moisture from her skin. She reaches for her clothes, but before she can put them on she suddenly feels nauseated. She ignores the feeling, and reaches for her toothbrush instead. She quickly pulls on her clothing, and pulls the bathroom door open. She finds her husband sitting on the bed clothing an infant. She grins as she moves towards the bed. Deeks scoops the baby up as soon as his last button is fastened, and passes him off to his mama. He reaches for her face. She kisses the palm of his chubby hand. As she descends the stairs with her son in tow her phone buzzes. She pulls the mobile device out of her pocket, and presses it to her ear, without checking the caller ID.
"Kensi," she answers.
"Are you ready to get back into the grind?" A familiar voice asks her.
"Sam, I think that you know the answer to that question."
"I have a proposal," he tells her.
"What is that?"
"I know that Deeks' mother is there, but I was informed this morning that I have stopped accruing time off, as it is frozen until I use some of it."
"Are you asking me if you can come hang out with your son for the day?"
"I am. I don't want to impose, or assume…"
She cuts him off, "I have no objections."
"I will be over in a few," he tells her.
"Really? That isn't your car parked outside on the street?" She probes, as she peeks out the window.
"It is, but I can explain."
"Oh, really?" She cocks an eyebrow.
"My daughter insisted that I take her shopping this weekend, and while we were out I found something for Jeremiah."
"I am hanging up now," she hangs up.
She heads to the door, pulling it open, before Sam can even knock. He reaches for the baby, and the little one's dimples are suddenly revealed. She places the bright eyed baby into his arms. The little boy sucks on this pacifier.
"Is he hungry?"
"He just ate," she informs him.
Sam reaches into his pocket, and pulls out a frog clip. He secures the pacifier to one end, and the other to the baby's shirt.
"Your husband was informing me that there has been a high rate of pacifier casualty around here."
She nods, "Every time a pacifier falls on the floor his mutt steals it, thinking that it is a chew toy."
Deeks enters the living room, and hands Kensi the car keys.
"Not to interrupt, but it is time for us to go."
"Okay," she nods in agreement.
Sam holds the baby up, and she kisses his face multiple times.