Rifiuto: Non Mirena
"I can't believe he showed you those!"
Ziva chuckled as Sarah snatched the photos away from her. The younger woman had stopped by the check up and see if they needed anything. She'd brought along hot chocolate- even though it was summer in D.C.- and gingersnaps; something Ziva had been craving for weeks. Tim was visiting Gibbs; the young agent had turned to the Team Leader for more than just advice- for full, all-out guidance in regards to dealing with the amnesia, seeing as Gibbs himself had once been in the same boat.
The two women were stretched out on the little makeshift bed in the living room watching the video of Ziva and Tim's wedding. "I can't believe he doesn't remember that day. When I mention it to him, he... he gets this... blank look on his face, like he's never heard of such a thing. A couple of times... Timmy's said that... that May sixteenth is... just another day, that it doesn't mean anything. If it were me, I'd beat him to a pulp. Honestly, Ziva, I don't see how you put up with it."
The young mother shrugged. "He's trying, Sarit, he really is. And his memory is getting better. He's able to recall trips to Israel to visit my parents and... afternoons up at Penny's... not specfic dates, but it's something at least."
"Still no memory of Amal?" Ziva shook her head.
"Other than the last few months, no. He still doesn't remember the night we conceived him or the day we found out. But I really don't think Amal cares. He is just happy that Daddy knows him." Ziva turned her gaze to her stomach. She reached down, lifting her shirt, revealing the distended skin. "Don't you, ahuva? You're just happy that Daddy knows who you are and loves you." She gently ran a hand over her belly, before folding it over the other one beneath her breast. Sarah watched in silence as Ziva began to absentmindedly stroke the skin of her belly; she kept one hand at the top, near her breasts, while her other hand pressed gently on the side of her stomach.
The baby kicked out in response to his mother's pressing, and after a moment, Ziva did it again, this time moving her hands up and over her belly in slow circles. She then rubbed firmly against the top of her belly, before moving her hand- Amal began to pedal against his mother's skin and Ziva sighed, rubbing her hands over her tummy.
"I can't... I can't have children."
The Israeli turned to her sister-in-law, brow furrowing. She grabbed the remote, stopping the video and turning it off before sitting up. "What?" Sarah swallowed firmly, tears coming to her eyes. "I can't have kids."
"What? What do you mean-" The photographer took a deep breath, before getting up and going to her camera bag; she rummaged around for a few minutes, finally pulling something out. Once she returned, she opened an envelope.
"Re... remember when I got back, not long after Timmy got out of his coma and came home?" Ziva nodded.
"Well, I wasn't gone just because of the assignment. That was a big part of it, yes, but... but I needed... I needed time away." She slowly opened the envelope, and Ziva watched as she removed a tiny pair of pink booties an a matching cap.
"Oh, Sarah-"
"I... I had an affair with... with one my coworkers that was also on assignment in Venice and... and I got pregnant." She sniffled. "We... we didn't just film in Venice, we... we went out to the smaller villages around Italy and took shots, met the locals. We also went to the island of Sardinia and filmed. There's this... small village in the far south of Sardinia, right on the coast of the Mediterranean Sea... it's beautiful... like something out of the eighteen-hundreds." She stopped. "By the time we got there, I was... twenty-four weeks pregnant and... and during shoot, I... I started bleeding. They rushed me to the local doctor, but there was nothing they could do."
She then removed a small rosary, glass cross and red beads sparking in the light. "They took me to... to Cagliari, further up the coast... there's a hospital there... fairly advanced for such a coastal town and... I gave birth. But I nearly bled out when the placenta tore from the uterine wall and they... they did a hysterectomy a couple days after she was born." She set the rosary down, before digging back into the envelope and pulling out several photographs. "Jason- my partner-" Ziva nodded, understanding what she didn't say. "I asked him to... to photograph the birth."
Ziva took the pictures; there were several, all of Sarah in various stages of labor and delivery- and one particular shot taken as she was pushing. In it, the doctor was seated on a stool between Sarah's legs, and though Sarah could be seen sitting up and pushing in the background, it was evident that the camera was focused on the infant coming out of her. "But... what about your career? If they found out-"
Sarah shook her head. "They already found out; they didn't do anything. Jason and I are the highest paid photojournalists at Nat Geo. They knew if they lost us-" She stopped, reaching back into the envelope and pulling out a couple more photographs- one of her and a man who was obviously Jason, holding a small bundle in their arms. The other two were simply of Sarah, cradling her child; a small smile played on her face in one, and in the other, there was nothing but heartbreak as she kissed the baby's head. "I... I had a little girl."
"Oh, Sarah, sweetie-"
The woman took a deep, shaky breath. "She was a pound and five ounces, twelve inches long... she didn't make it. She lived an hour and... and then died in my arms..."
"What was her name?"
It was then that Sarah unbuttoned her blouse, pulling it out of the way and turning to show Ziva the tattoo on her chest, just above her left breast. A tiny little footprint, with the name and dates in beautiful script. "Jason and I... we'd met a couple years ago on an assignment in India, that's when our affair started. We named her Shanti. It's Indian, for 'peace.'" She choked on a sob. "Shanti... Lilah... O'Hara..."
As she broke down, Ziva pulled the younger woman into her arms, stroking her back and letting her cry.
