Rifiuto: Non Mirena

Sarah had to push her brother back into the room, and forcefully- gently, but forcefully- walk him over to the bed where Ziva sat propped against the pillows; Tim noticed that- obviously with Jeanne's help- she'd removed her underwear, remaining in only her bra. As soon as she saw him, Ziva brightened, reaching out for him. "Tim-" He glanced back at his sister, who nodded, but when he didn't move, Sarah bumped him quickly with her hip, causing him to stumble. After a moment, he took a seat beside her on the bed, pulling her slowly into his arms, watching as Jeanne quickly checked her progress.

"She's eight and a half centimeters and eighty percent effaced."

"Which means?"

"All she has is transition and once she transitions, then she can begin pushing."

"And then... he'll be here." Ziva breathed, resting her head against his shoulder. He glanced down at his wife; she smiled softly at him, reaching up to brush her fingers along his jawline. "I... love you, Tim." The soft kiss seemed to calm Tim, and he caught her hand, kissing her palm. A moment passed, before Ziva pushed herself up, reaching for her husband. "I need..."

"What do you need, sweetheart?"

She bit her lip before crawling towards the edge of the bed; Tim and Sarah managed to help her down and away from the bed before she collapsed, but soon the laboring woman sank to the floor in the center of the room, shifting to her hands and knees and rocking back and forth, a bellow escaping her throat. "Oh... God..."

Tim turned back to Jeanne, who sighed. "She's transitioning." He swallowed, glancing back at his wife, suddenly pale.

"That means it... it'll happen soon, right? The baby'll be born soon?"

Jeanne followed his gaze. "Honestly, Tim, it depends on Ziva's body and how quickly she goes through transition. If her transition speeds up her dilation, yes. But it's up to Ziva's body, not us." He nodded, going to his wife.

Two hours later, Ziva was sitting on a birthing stool, with Tim sitting on the sofa directly across from her; she leaned against him, one arm tight around his neck, the other hand tangled tight in his shirt. She'd removed her bra, and felt uncomfortable in any and every position except for the one she was currently in. Tim held her, whispering softly to her as Jeanne pushed on her hips to help relieve the pain during transition. The lights had been dimmed and the music was soft, and it was relatively quiet, with the exception of Ziva's reactions to the contractions- and Sarah's commentary.

"Well, it's... two hours later- making it one-thirty in the morning- and Ziva's right in the middle of transition. Means their little Amal should be here soon and then-"

"Shut up, Sarah!"

Well, occasional commentary.

After a moment, Sarah set the camera back on the tripod- she'd been moving it at various times, getting good angles and views like every good photographer- and hurried to take over for Jeanne so the doctor could monitor Ziva's progress and make sure everything was okay with the baby. Taking her place behind her sister-in-law, she gently pressed on her hips before getting firmer and firmer, finding the familiar pattern they'd been in all day. About halfway through the next hip squeeze and camel-ed contractions, Ziva let out a scream that quickly morphed into a high-pitched, not-quite-glass-shattering-almost-operatic squeal.

"No! Too hard... too hard... no..." She burst into tears, digging her nails into Tim's shoulder.

"I know it hurts, Ziva, but you need to let me squeeze to relieve the pressure! And you need to breathe through the contraction at the same time!" Sarah replied, continuing despite her sister's protests. Those protests eventually turned into begging for the one thing Ziva seemed to fear more than being captured alive.

"I want to go to the hospital!"

"No, sweetheart, you don't." Tim whispered, stroking her hair.

"I do! I want an epidural... oh, God, I can't do this!" She let out a scream, burying her face in Tim's shoulder, biting down on his shoulder as the pain got worse.

"Yes, you can, Ziva! You've been doing this for the last several hours, and you're almost done! You're doing good, sis! You're doing really, really good!"

But the laboring woman shook her head, even as she tilted her head back and let out a bellow as the contractions got worse. "I can't do this... please... don't make me... I don't want to... I want to go to the hospital... oh, God..."

"You're doing really well, sweetheart." Tim brushed a kiss to her temple even as Ziva shook her head. "Yes, you are. Listen to me, Ziva, you're strong, you can get through this, you are getting through this." His wife let out another strong bellow, completely focused on only the contractions running through her body-

Suddenly the contractions got ten times more intense.

"Oh... o..."

Tim and Sarah shared a glance.

Her waters broke.

"Oh, God..."

"Ziva, can you sit up for me really quick?" The younger woman shook her head, even as she did as asked. Sarah quickly got up and backed away, retreating back to the camera so Jeanne could talk to her sister.

"Oh... I need something... I change my mind... I need..." She let out a scream as Tim got up, allowing Jeanne to examine her. "No, don't leave me..."

"I'm right here, sweetheart." He moved behind her, sliding his arms around her and letting his wife lean back against him. Jeanne quickly checked her, giving her a small smile.

"Ziva, honey, you're fully dilated and completely effaced." She let out a cry, leaning her head back against his shoulder. Near delirious thanks to the pain, she looked up at her husband, but spoke to Jeanne.

"What does that mean?"

"It means," The doctor waited a moment for the mother to calm down before she spoke so she'd be heard. "Ziva, listen to me." The mother swallowed, taking a deep breath. "It means that you're about to start the second stage of your labor."

"What... stage?"

Jeanne smiled softly at her. "Giving birth."