January 12, 2013


Now that Grissom was working at the lab again the expectant couple felt more confident about moving ahead with planning the nursery and purchasing things from the long list of items that Mandy and Catherine had drafted for them. They did most of their shopping online, snuggled up in their large bed with a laptop and whatever snack Sara was craving. Grissom manned the computer for the most part because Sara's belly had grown so large that it was awkward for her to work with it on what was left of her lap. That didn't stop her from being in control them and Grissom had labeled her a backseat driver, an accusation that she shrugged off; she wanted everything to be perfect for when the baby came.

"I think we should revisit the idea of a round crib," she said again, resting her cheek on his shoulder as they flipped through nursery sets. Grissom had voiced his preference for something white, and Sara was agreeable to the idea, but she didn't like the clunky look to the furniture that he was presenting her with.

Gil shook his head. "It seems impractical… it would have to go in the middle of the room…"

"So?" Sara asked, lifting her head to look at him. "I think it would look nice… and how is it impractical? Kids sleep curled up anyway," she offered her rebuttal with determination in her voice. She'd had her heart set on a round crib since very early in her pregnancy and she couldn't understand why Grissom was being so stubborn about it.

"I thought we were going for a more classic look," he nudged her with his elbow. "I would have thought you would be all over this trend of refurbishing antique or vintage furniture. Living green," he raised one eyebrow.

Sara's nose scrunched a little and she laid her head back down on his shoulder again. "I don't know about that… it could be bad luck or something," she mumbled, running her hand over the curve of her belly.

Grissom chuckled softly, typing the appropriate words into the search bar. "I didn't know that you were the superstitious type," he teased dryly, opening up a large selection of sets that featured a round crib.

"I'm not…" Sara pointed to a white set with a netted canopy that reminded her of the time they had spent in Central America. She inspected the image closely, admiring the rich carved details on the legs of the crib. "I like that one," she said. "I just want everything to be perfect," she sighed.

"Our baby could sleep in a room with boxes stacked in the corner and it would still be perfect," he assured her, sliding his arm around her shoulders while pushing the laptop to the side, opened to the picture of the round crib. Sara shifted awkwardly until she was comfortable, settled with her cheek on his lap. Grissom threaded his fingers through her brown curls. "You've been," he considered his word choice. "Melancholy," he finished.

Sara shrugged slightly, staring ahead. "It's stupid."

"Don't do that," he untangled his fingers and rubbed the curve of her shoulder, down over her bicep and then back up again.

Sighing, Sara turned onto her back to stare at the ceiling. "I dropped James. And I can't knit," she huffed, her eyes flicking over to check in with him. "See? It's stupid."

Her husband's hand moved to caress her bump. "I haven't thrown a ball around in about a decade. And I don't know how to change a diaper," he admitted. "I know my inadequacies don't make you feel any better about your own, but we can learn together," he rubbed the spot where he could feel the lump of their baby's head, high on the right side of her belly. "I won't laugh at you if you won't laugh at me."

Sara's smile was barely a ghost on her lips and she looked down at his hand, her own coming up to join his. She threaded their fingers over their slowly waking baby, feeling its sluggish movements. "Will you promise me that if I'm not safe you will take the baby and leave? I need to know that you would be willing to do that."

"Sara," Gil sighed. "You're not going-," he released her hand and brushed his fingers over her cheek, offering her an empathetic look.

Sara shook her head. "Please just promise me."

Her husband sighed, continuing to stroke her cheek, his gaze holding hers. "I love you, Sara. We are going to have a very happy child… in an impractical round crib," the corners of his eyes crinkled when he smiled at her. She offered him a brilliant smile in return, though he could tell by her eyes that she was still thinking about her request. Her brown orbs had darkened and hardened as she looked up at him.

"It's a start," she murmured, turning onto her side facing away from him, closing her eyes. She breathed a heavy sigh and they slipped into an easy silence, Grissom rubbing her back.

Once the furniture had been ordered the rest of the nursery came together quickly. They painted the walls together in the light green colour that Sara had picked out; she thought the colour would go nicely for whatever sex the baby turned out to be. Secretly, she had begun hoping for a little girl, but she was afraid to admit any preference out loud. She knew she would love a little boy too, but there was something about the idea of seeing her husband cooing over a daughter that made her heart flutter when she imagined it.

As the weeks crept closer towards she became more nervous about the upcoming birth. She used her time to research what to expect, though she was very aware that her remission put her in a different category from typical expectant mothers. They'd discussed the option of a scheduled caesarian, but Sara was adamant that she wanted to have as natural a birth as possible. She could tell that the idea of not have a plan made Grissom nervous, but she had shrugged off his concerns, welcoming him to the rest of their lives; babies didn't come with a schedule. At thirty-five weeks she broached the idea of a home birth, marking an end to the peaceful routine that they had fallen into.

"Are you crazy?" Gil demanded, throwing his hands out in exasperation. "I Okayed the round crib, the weird Lamaze video and relaxation tapes- the natural labour..."

"You okayed? Agreed?" Sara rolled her eyes. "Last time I checked, I'm the one who is going to be giving birth here," she tossed the brochure she had been looking at onto the table closest to her.

"Sara, people plan home births for months! It isn't something you decide at the last minute… especially with your medical history. Absolutely not," he said decidedly, picking up the brochure that she had been looking at. He gave her a final look, but his stony features softened at the site of watery brown eyes. "Honey," he sighed, tossing the brochure onto the table and taking a seat next to it. "It is not my intention to be harsh."

"Could've fooled me," Sara frowned, turning her face to look over his shoulder, her eyes avoiding his. "I was just thinking that it would be nice to have the baby here, in the home that we have built for it. That's all," she shrugged, draping one arm over her belly while her other raised so that she could wipe a tear off her cheek. She wasn't really that upset about his outburst, she'd grown accustomed to his temper over the years and she took it with a grain of salt. If she'd had her say she would be snapping at him right back, but her hormones had other ideas as another tear leaked down her cheek.

Gil reached out to catch her hand and he pulled it into his lap where he played with her fingers. "Sara," he sighed again, lifting her hand to kiss her knuckles. He faltered at what to say next and he looked at her helplessly.

Sara offered her husband a watery smile. "I'm an emotional wreck," she laughed softly. "I keep wondering what we're thinking… what I was when I thought that… I wanted this." Grissom's brow furrowed in confusion and she rushed on. "I mean… I do want this. I am just over-talking and saying all the wrong things."

"Take a breath," he encouraged, taking on himself.

Sara copied him and swallowed hard. "I've never really had a family besides you, Hank, and Jenny. I invested everything into my education and career… I'm afraid that I don't know what a healthy family looks like. And That I won't be able to provide one for our baby."

Grissom nodded in understanding, not sure how to approach the situation. He wanted to tell her that everything would be fine, but he had absolutely no evidence to support that statement. "All we can do is our best," he tried.

Her smile was a simple upturn of one corner of her mouth. She nodded in agreement. "So no home birth…" she lifted her chin.

"No home birth," Grissom leaned in to press a kiss to her forehead. "We are going to the hospital, where there will be highly trained medical professionals. And I will be there the entire time. We are going to have a very healthy, probable beautiful baby, and then we will go from there."

One eyebrow rose high onto her forehead. "Probably beautiful?" She asked.

"Well, I don't want to jinx it," he smiled, kissing her again.

Sara laughed and rested her forehead against his. "Now who's being supersticious."