Rifiuto: Non Mirena

"I can't believe it. He's dropped." Ziva turned, studying her reflection in the mirror of their bedroom. Just as Jeanne said, when she looked in the mirror, she realized that yes, her belly was lower than it was before. And from the photos she'd looked at after they got home, the doctor was right; she had been carrying high, so the sudden returned ability to breathe was a welcome change. "Now if I would just start dilating-"

Tim chuckled, making his way towards his wife and sliding his arms around her from behind. "Dr. Beniot said that it would take time, sweetheart. And just because he's dropped doesn't mean he's stopped growing." She turned to meet his gaze. "This is our first, you have to be patient, remember? It's not going to happen all at once." He then kissed her quickly, before taking a seat on the bed and pulling the baby book onto his lap. A moment passed before Ziva joined him, sliding her hand around his bicep and resting her head on his shoulder.

When they got home and hour ago, they'd taken another photo, placing it on the page opposite to the current one; in the photographs, the change was drastic. In all the photographs before the current one, Ziva's belly was high, but in this new one, there was a very noticeable drop to her belly- most noticeably, the slight space between her stomach and her breasts.

When Ima and Abba went to visit the doctor today, she poked around Ima's tummy- and then when Ima stood to go, she could suddenly breathe easier! It's because my head is in Ima's pelvis, which means that sometime in the next few weeks I could be born! But because I'm Ima and Abba's first, it might take me longer, no matter how eager Ima is.

"You nervous?" He met her gaze. "About becoming a father?"

Tim chuckled softly, closing the book and setting it aside. "I'm terrified. And... and I know that... that part of it is normal, due to the pregnancy, but I also know that part of it is caused from the accident and the amnesia. And I'm... I'm trying not to let it affect me, I swear, I just..." Ziva shifted, stretching out as she propped herself up against the pillows. He joined her, folding his legs beneath him as he reached out, rubbing her belly.

Despite the fact that he was engaged in his mother's pelvis, Amal immediately began stretching and kicking at the feel of his father's hand on Ziva's belly. She sighed, pressing gently at the top of her belly. "I wouldn't be surprised if he's still moving and stretching as he's being born." Tim rolled his eyes. "I thought most babies were supposed to stop moving once they became engaged."

Her husband shrugged. "Every pregnancy is different, just like every baby is."

She nodded. "Well, our little Amal is certainly different. Aren't you, ahuva?" She gently stroked the top of her belly, wincing as he kicked. "You really need to stop stopping in the middle of rubbing, Tim. Rubbing my belly my rile our son up, but stopping just makes it worse. It seems like... if you stop, he just tries to get you to keep going."

"Yeah, I noticed that." Tim chuckled, moving closer. He returned to gently rubbing her stomach, and Amal kicked hard against his father's hand as Tim passed over where the boy's feet were. His wife sighed.

"Amal's going to be one of those little boys who keeps us up all hours of the night simply because he wants the contact with us. Tali was like that- I remember Ima and Abba getting up at all hours of the night and just... just holding her. It wasn't necessarily because she was hungry or colicky, she just wanted to be held. And Amal is just going to be like Auntie Tali. Aren't you, ahuva? You're just going to want to be held at all hours of the night." The baby kicked hard in response.

"Just as long as I don't have to breastfeed." Ziva laughed, shaking her head.

"I don't think you'll be able to accomplish that, sweetheart, so I'll leave the holding and rocking to you and I'll take care of the breastfeeding."

They settled into silence again, Ziva watched as Tim continued rubbing her belly, pressing gently against the top of her belly, trying to get the boy to move. Tim gently pulled away, getting up. "Hot tea?" She nodded. "Be right back." He kissed her quickly, before slipping out of the room.

Left alone with their son, Ziva turned to stroking the sensitive skin. She took a deep breath, pressing firmly on either side of her belly, causing him to kick in response. She repeated the movement, before gently stroking her hands back and forth over her belly. With each stroke, the baby responded, until the top of her belly was stretching with each kick. She then gently pressed against the top of her stomach, giggling softly as she and Amal seemed to play a game of peek-a-boo.

"I leave you alone for five minutes, and you're playing with our son." She looked up as Tim came back into the room.

"Toda, ahuva."

"Al lo davar." He kissed her quickly, handing her the cup. She took a sip, before setting it on the nightstand.

"We were just... playing peek-a-boo, I guess." She replied, looking down at her belly. "Weren't we, Amal?" The baby kicked at Ziva's touch, and Tim chuckled, setting his own cup down and moving down to sit by his wife's belly. He reached out, gently rubbing his wife's tummy; instantly, the baby started to kick and stretch, his movements becoming sharper when Tim spoke.

"Were you playing with Ima, hmm? Was she playing peek-a-boo, Amal? Did you like playing with Ima? Does she play peek-a-boo well?" The baby started to pedal against his mother's skin, and Tim chuckled. It doesn't matter whether you remember his conception or not. You won't have time to try and remember, because he's going to keep you on your toes.