Rifiuto: Non Mirena

"I don't think I can get any bigger, I really don't."

Abby laughed softly, watching as her best friend softly stroked her belly. "Have you started labor yet?"

"If I remember correctly, I think Jeanne said that I'm in prodromal labor, which is basically early labor. I'm like... two centimeters dilated and I don't think I've started effacing yet, and the contractions are more like Braxton Hicks- they really aren't that regular, and they aren't really affected by what I do. Like... if I shift positions or get up, they stop."

"How's Tim taking everything?"

Ziva sighed. "He's taking this whole process fine. And his memory is coming back- like last night, after we got out of the bath, he was able to tell me... like, my favorite food and my favorite color and... and he remembered the night he gave me that perfume on our second wedding anniversary. I think... if he just is patient, and gives it time, that eventually, the amnesia will go away and his memories will come back."

"His memories of you and baby ninja."

Ziva rolled her eyes, and nodded. "Yeah." She whimpered softly as Amal kicked against her hand.

"How far are you, Ziva?"

"Forty weeks and four days." Abby winced.

"I can't even imagine being that big." Ziva chuckled.

"Honestly, neither could I, but I am."

Eventually, Abby left with a kiss to Ziva's cheek, telling the young mother that she could see herself out and promising that she'd be there if they needed her for anything. Once she was gone, Ziva got up, heading into the living room and settling on the makeshift bed. Tim was out to lunch with Sarah, since "this would be the last time in a long time she'd be able to take her big brother out before he became a daddy", and Abby had come over to spend some time with Ziva so she wouldn't be bored out of her mind. However now, Ziva found that she liked having the house to herself.

Well, herself and Amal.

She turned on the TV, flipping it to a movie, that she'd wanted to watch, but soon lost interest as memories of the night before came flooding back. She set the remote down and began rubbing circles on her belly, a soft smile on her face. "I know, ahuva, you're waiting for just the right moment to come out, aren't you? You're like your daddy in that respect- Daddy always plans everything. But that's what I love about him. And occasionally," She sighed, sitting up and removing the wrap dress she wore before settling back against the pillows. "Occasionally, Daddy's plans don't go as they should, or something comes along to mess up his plans or completely surprises us, like you did."

A hiss escaped her throat as Amal kicked hard, in excitement at hearing her talk about Tim. No matter how cramped it was inside her womb, Amal would still move and kick and shift, especially when his father was mentioned or near. Especially in the last three weeks or so, whenever Tim had talked or he'd been rubbing her belly, she'd noticed that Amal seemed to get exceedingly excited, to the point where his kicks would be violent, morphing her thinned skin into small mounds and hills that she was afraid would bruise from the inside out.

"Yeah, you're definitely Daddy's boy. But I knew that long before now. Back when Daddy was still in the coma, I would sit by his bed and hold his hand to my tummy, and," She took a deep breath, blinking back tears. She preferred not to think of those three long months when she would stop by the hospital every morning to visit her husband, those first three months of her pregnancy, when she'd sit by Tim's bedside and hold his hand and talk to him, telling him about the changes she was going through and how strong their baby was getting and how much he was growing. Of how she'd hold his hand against her stomach and pray to God that he felt the swell beneath her shirt, that he could feel the quickening- and later on, the distinct movements of their son in her belly.

She took a deep breath, closing her eyes briefly. "and I'd tell him about you- about how big you were getting, and about how Jeanne was having a hard time finding you on the ultrasound because you would hide from her, and how you really seemed to like peanut butter..." Gently, she stroked her stomach, thinking. "And I... I would hope, and there were days when I'd sit by Daddy's bedside and... and pray that he could hear me, and pray that he could feel my touch and my kiss and that... that he could feel you..." She sniffled, her emotions getting the better of her. "And you know, ahuva, there were days when I thought he could feel me, could hear me, that he could feel you moving inside me and... and I used to tell him of... of all the things our family brought over to the house for you, and how they were looking out for us... and I used to bring the sonogram pictures and hold them in front of Daddy and... and tell him all about you and how big you were and what you were doing and... and how I could feel you move in my tummy..."

Amal kicked hard against her hand, and she laughed softly. "I'd hold Daddy's hand against my belly and... and remind him that you were moving... and that... that movement was just for him, that you were moving just especially for him, that you were showing him what you could do and... and that he had to feel you to believe it. And I think he knew. I think, somewhere... somewhere deep, deep, way deep down in Daddy's conscious, so far down that it got lost, he knew. I think that he knew all along that you were moving for him, and that... that if he woke up, he would get to see you and feel you move and... and then get to hold you." Another firm kick met her hand as she continued to rub her belly.

"I know, sweetheart, I'm talking about Daddy and he's not here. It's very rude of me. But he's having lunch with Auntie Sarit, so he'll be home later." She sniffled, patting her belly gently before moving her hands down to cradle the bottom of her stomach, where his head was. "From the moment you were conceived, you were Abba's boy... hmm, my little track star..." She swallowed. "You are helping to bring Daddy back to me, to us. So... so you just... you keep being Daddy's boy, you hear me, Amal? Because... because you are what brought Daddy out of his coma, and you are going to be what brings him back to us. You hear me? Daddy may not come back for me, but he'll come back for you. Because Daddy loves you."

She looked up to find Tim leaning against the doorway, watching her, arms crossed. "I love you, too, Ziva. I love you, too."