Rifiuto: Non Mirena

Week Thirty-Seven

"Well, you've lost more of your mucus plug, and you're about two centimeters dilated." Jeanne helped Ziva sit up. "Your little one should stop moving in the next couple weeks or so as he prepares for birth." The couple shared a glance.

"In all respect, Jeanne, you really don't know Amal. There's no such thing as stopping where he's concerned." The doctor chuckled, removing her gloves.

"Yes, I remember the time I had getting a good shot of him on the ultrasound at sixteen weeks." She walked the couple out, booking their next appointment for the following week. "If you need anything, don't hesitate to stop by the birth center or give me a call. I'll see you next week."

As they climbed into the car, Ziva turned to her husband. "Hey, Tim? Can we stop by the birth center really quick?"

The birth center Jeanne ran- Bundle of Joy Women's Health and Birth Center- wasn't far from where they lived. Though Jeanne was an obstetrician and a neurosurgeon, she also had a degree in midwifery; she'd started the birth center a year or two after she started at the hospital. In a small three story brownstone, it had a nice, homey atmosphere, with multiple rooms, a good-sized lobby with a fireplace, and even a small kitchen. Jeanne made sure her staff had at least ten years experience, and were all thoroughly background checked.

"Hey, Ziva, Tim. It's not time is it?" Ziva shook her head as Emily Montague, the receptionist, got up and slipped out from behind her desk, giving each of them a hug. "So how's Amal doing? He getting ready?"

"Oh yeah."

"And you two?"

The couple shared a glance. "We're getting there. Um... actually, Emily, we were wondering... we just came from our appointment with Jeanne, and she said something about stopping by and maybe looking at reserving one of the rooms for when the time comes?"

"Oh, not a problem. Any particular one you had in mind?" Ziva shook her head. "Just wanted to look around?" She nodded. "Well, go right ahead, you know where they are. If you have any questions, don't hesitate to come get me."

They made their way upstairs, looking through the empty rooms. "Ziva, honey, I understand wanting to visit the center, since you have three weeks left, but the need to reserve a room? Seriously? I don't think Amal will matter what room he's born in-"

"It matters to me, Tim." She replied, peeking into a room at the very end of the hall on the second floor.

"Okay, why?"

She turned back to him. "Because he's our son, and I want to be as comfortable as possible when he comes into the world."

"For that matter, he could be born at home-" She stepped into the room, and he sighed, following. He leaned against the door frame, watching as he wife wandered about the room- there was a queen-sized bed, several medicine balls, a rocking chair, TV, sofa, and in the corner, both a shower and a Jacuzzi tub for water births. Ziva ran a hand over the rocking chair.

"You're not a woman. You don't understand." She muttered, turning to the bed. He sighed.

"Then help me understand, sweetheart." A moment passed, before she turned to him.

"This is it."

"What's it?" Tim asked, his temper wearing thin.

"This is the room I'm going to give birth in." She replied, resting her hands on her stomach and gently rubbing in slow circles.

"Ziva-" But before he could finish, she'd walked past him, heading back downstairs. He caught up to her just as she reached the reception desk.

"... the room on the right at the back of the second floor hallway, can I reserve that room?"

"Sure, think Ziva. You know, surprisingly, no one uses that room. Most of the mothers don't want to be that far away from the first floor."

"Why?"

"A lot of them say it's because it's so private, being at the back of the second floor."

Tim watched his wife nod. "Well, I want my privacy. I want as much privacy as I can get."

"You could easily get it at home." Tim muttered, and Ziva reached back, stamping hard on his foot. He hissed in pain.

Emily chuckled. "Fathers never understand." She quickly brought up something on the computer. "It's reserved for you. So when you start going into labor-"

"Thanks. Um... can I come as soon as labor starts or do I have to stay home for the first half?"

The woman shrugged. "You can come in whenever you want. At the very beginning of labor, during the second stage. Whenever you feel like it." Ziva relaxed.

"Oh, um, and my sister-in-law agreed to videotape the birth for us. Is that allowed?"

"It certainly is. We encourage videotaping and photography during labor and birth here. We aren't like hospitals."

"I know. That's why I like it here. Thanks, Emily."

The drive home was quiet. As the door shut behind them, Tim glanced at his wife. "What's wrong, ahuva?" He bit his lip.

"Why don't you call Sarah and ask her to come over for a while."

Ziva furrowed a brow as she peeled her light jacket off. "Okay... why?" She stepped closer. "Tim, is something wrong?" Her hands slid up his chest, to caress his neck. "Sweetheart, talk to me. Please." He studied her, and then pulled her close, his mouth finding hers.

"I love you, Ziva."

"Okay, Tim, you're starting to scare me. What's going on?" But instead of replying, he just leaned down, gently caressing her belly.

"I love you, too, baby boy." He pressed a soft kiss to her stomach, and straightened. She grabbed his wrist as he turned to the door.

"Tim, where are you going?" He met her gaze.

"There's someone I need to talk to. I won't be gone long."