Rifiuto: Non Mirena

Week Thirty-Five

She sighed, relaxing back against her husband, allowing the warm water to elevate the pain in her lower back. After coming back from her appointment, Tim had drawn a warm bath, helping Ziva into it and allowing her to relax against him. "So, from what Jeanne said, it doesn't look like I'll be dilating for a while. Especially since this is our first baby, she said it usually takes a few weeks. I think she said I'd probably start dilating sometime around week thirty-eight." Ziva tilted her head up to look at him.

"That's only three weeks away, sweetheart."

"I know, Tim. I just... I want him out of me and in our arms. I want to hold him... I want... I want to see who he looks like... and... and see his personality..."

Tim chuckled, wrapping his arms gently around her and kissing her temple. "So do I, sweetheart. I'm just as eager to meet him as you are."

They settled in silence, fingers laced as they rested against Ziva's burgeoning stomach. "I noticed you were watching the video from Gibbs's barbecue- the one celebrating our one year anniversary. Do you remember it?" He shook his head, silent.

"No. Ziva, I... what happens if I never get those memories back?"

"Tim," She released their hands, shifting to turn and reach up, taking his face in her hands. "I won't care if you ever get those memories back; it won't change who you were before the accident or after. You'll still be my husband, still be the father of my son, and I will still love you, memories or no." He pressed a kiss to each palm, before capturing her mouth in a soft kiss. Ziva deepened the kiss, sliding a hand into his hair and tangling her fingers around the strands.

When they finally broke the kiss, Ziva settled once more against his chest, hands moving up to caress her belly. She giggled softly as Tim leaned down, pressing a series of soft kisses to her shoulder, his hands moving to her belly. He gently squeezed on either side; the baby kicked and shifted in response, and Ziva laughed softly as her husband repeated it and the baby once more responded. "I really do love it when you rub my belly. And Amal loves it to, because it means Daddy is paying attention to him, huh, Amal. Is Daddy paying attention to you?" The baby kicked against his father's hand. "Daddy pays a lot of attention to you, doesn't he, ahuva?" She glanced behind her, seeing the worry in Tim's eyes.

"I'm sorry, I just-" But he cut himself off, pressing another soft kiss to his wife's shoulder. She reached up, briefly caressing his jaw before returning her hand to her belly.

"You love it when Daddy rubs my tummy, don't you, ahuva? Yes, you do. I know you do. You know how I know? Because whenever Abba rubs my tummy you start kicking me like crazy." She winced slightly. "Just like now." A soft laugh escaped her throat. "I know, Amal, I can feel Daddy too. I can feel when he pushes on my tummy and when he rubs it- and I like it as much as you do, sweetheart. I feel loved when Daddy touches my belly, just like you do." She glanced back at her husband. "And since Abba's been touching us a lot lately, then that means we're extra loved." Tim raised an eyebrow at his wife's grin, and after a moment, she leaned close, kissing him.

They drank hungrily from each other; Ziva's hands moved down to cover his as he continued rubbing her stomach, their fingers laced and soon they stopped, hands resting on her belly as the kiss deepened. Unused to being ignored by his parents, Amal kicked hard against their hands; however they were too caught up in the kiss to notice. Several more hard, sharp kicks soon did the trick and they broke apart.

"I think he's telling us to get a room." Ziva laughed, knowing her husband was right; she scooted forward, allowing Tim to get out before he helped her. Once she was out of the water, she turned her gaze to her stomach, reaching down and caressing the swell.

"He is already acting like an embarrassed little boy disgusted by his parents' affection displays, aren't you, Amal?" The baby kicked in response, and Tim chuckled as his wife grinned. "Well, I wish we could get a room, ahuva, but unfortunately, you'd have to come with us anyway."

As she followed Tim into the bedroom, she stopped, watching as her husband pulled on a pair of boxers and then a pair of pajama bottoms. He turned back to her, a small smile playing on his lips as he made his way towards her. A moment passed before he reached down, tracing his fingers over her belly, a soft look in his eyes. "I... I can live with the amnesia, I... I really can, but... but what I can't live with... what I can't seem to live with is the fact that... that I forgot you." His gaze darted to his wife's. "And... and this beautiful... beautiful little boy that's been growing inside you for the last... for the last nearly eight months... I could... I could do with forgetting everything else- my job, the team, my name, but... but not you. Not either of you. And yet... it's the two of you that I ended up losing. One I've loved for four years and the other... the other I never knew existed until I woke up from that coma..."

Gently, Ziva reached up, cradling his cheek in her hand. "Oh, Tim-"

He met her gaze, tears in his beautiful green eyes. "Why you? Why did it have to be you I forgot? Why Amal? Why couldn't it have been anything and everything but you?"

"I don't know, ahuva."

"And... what if I never get you back?"

"Shh. Don't think that way, Tim. You will never lose us." She stroked his cheek. "We are not leaving you, Tim. We have never left you, neither Amal or I. And we never will. I promise."