Thanks for sticking with this, even with the prolonged updates. You guys are the absolute best.
A week after Abby came to see her, a brief doctor's appointment told Ziva that her baby was already in position to be born. She was only at thirty-seven and a half weeks, but they told her, once again, that she would probably give birth a little earlier than her full forty weeks. She asked them if that would cause any problems, and they quickly assured her that anything past thirty-six weeks for girls was usually perfectly fine.
Short. To the point.
She was in and out of the doctor's office much quicker than any of the other times, which she was grateful for. Doctors made her uncomfortable more often than not, and she felt herself relax when she walked back out. It was warm, and Ziva couldn't help but smile. March had turned out to be a very pretty month, and spring had come a little early this year.
She walked back to her car, where Abby was waiting. When she got in, she expressed her gratitude to Abby for bringing her to her appointment.
"No problem," Abby said as she pulled out of the parking lot. "I'm sure you didn't want to drive."
"No, I certainly did not," Ziva replied, giving Abby a smile.
"Have you... have you thought any more about what we talked about?" Abby asked, her hands holding the steering wheel a little tighter than necessary.
Ziva sighed, leaning back against the seat. She looked out the window at the flashes of buildings going by. "I... I do not know."
Abby nodded, pursing her lips, but didn't push the issue any further. Instead, she changed the subject. "Tony knows I talked to you."
"Abby-"
"I didn't tell him! He figured it out. I was just... I asked him where Gibbs was and when I went to leave he just... knew. I'm not sure how he knew, but he did. I didn't tell him anything though. I just told him that we had talked and that was it." Abby's voice was rushed in her hurry to defend herself.
Ziva sighed, rubbing a hand over her face. "I am not angry with you, Abby. You cannot help that he has somehow acquired intuition."
"Must be all those years working with Gibbs," Abby mused, and then she turned on the radio to fill the silence that fell.
When they were almost back to her apartment, Ziva put her hand over the spot where she knew the baby was. She stayed still, seeing if she could feel any movement. There was a slight shift to the right that she could barely feel, but that was it. She swallowed, her nerves picking up just the slightest.
"Ziva?" Abby's voice was concerned. "What is it?"
"She... she isn't moving very much," Ziva told her slowly.
"What does that mean? Is that bad?" Abby's eyebrows came together. Whether the reason was confusion or concern, Ziva wasn't sure.
"It could mean... that she is almost ready. I read somewhere that before labor, the baby stops moving as much." But how long before was that? She tried to remember exactly what the article had said, but she couldn't recall if it had given a time period for when that was supposed to start happening. It might have even been one of the things that was different for every woman.
"Like... how almost ready? A day? A couple hours? Do I need to take you to the hospital?" Abby's voice was definitely more concerned now, and her eyes were wide.
"No, no. Just take me home. It is fine, Abby." Ziva smiled at her, noting that there was another soft kick, just below her belly button. "I think."
"Okay, but do you want me to stay with you? Just in case?" Abby had calmed down, but she still seemed a bit more panicked than necessary.
Ziva hesitated, once again trying to remember how far ahead of labor the baby stopped moving as much. She couldn't even remember which book or magazine she'd seen it in. She looked over at Abby, who was pulling into the parking lot beside Ziva's apartment complex. "No. If I need you, I can call."
Abby nodded, but still insisted on going up to Ziva's apartment with her. At the door, Ziva thanked Abby again, and once she'd closed the door, she took a deep breath. The baby moved, shifting again, a little to the left this time.
She walked into her bedroom, combing through the few books and magazines she had, trying to see if she could remember which one she had seen the pre-labor symptoms in. She wasn't even sure why she was looking. If she was close to going into labor, the doctor would have told her, right?
Finally, she found one of them, but it didn't help her much.
"Activity of baby - The baby may become slightly less active as labor approaches. You should still feel the baby move several times an hour - if you don't, call your health care provider immediately."
All that told her was that movement decreased as labor approached. How much time was that supposed to account for? She spent another ten minutes trying to find any other information, but after that, she gave up.
Five minutes later, she was sweeping her kitchen, feeling nearly restless. After a moment, though, her stomach started hurting slightly. She stopped what she was doing, figuring that it was just the "practice" contractions her doctor had told her to be wary of. Racking her brain, she tried to recall the name. Braxton something? She wasn't sure, but she knew they were another sign of approaching labor. She put the broom down and walked to the bedroom, and by the time she'd done so, the pain had faded.
She sat down on the edge of her bed and sighed, noting that the baby was shifting again, which was good. Unsure of what she was supposed to do, she decided that she didn't need to actually go to the hospital until her water broke. Besides, maybe she was still a few days away from going into labor, and these symptoms would just last until that point.
So, that night, still keeping a close check on how much the baby was moving and still experiencing a few of those practice contractions in her abdomen area, she went to sleep, figuring she wasn't going into labor any time soon. However, when she woke that morning at about two, the bed sheets beneath her wet, she realized exactly how mistaken she had been.
She didn't panic, however. She just took a quick shower, got dressed, grabbed the bag she'd had packed for two weeks now, and took it into her living room to sit it by her door. While she was doing so, a contraction started in her back. She winced slightly, barely remembering to take note of the time. Then, she went and got her phone, staring at her speed dial list and trying to decide which person she should call.
Gibbs would come and take her to the hospital, she knew, but should she bother him? He had strange sleeping patterns and could even still be awake, she thought. However, she'd told Abby she would call her if anything happened. Abby, too, would be more than willing to take her to the hospital.
Sighing, she let her eyes drift to the number still occupying the first slot on her speed dial. She could call him, but he hadn't really spoken to her in two weeks. How would he react if she called him and told him that she was going into labor? Would he come get her?
She pressed her hand to her forehead, deciding to just call Gibbs. The phone only rang once before he answered. "Ziver?"
"Gibbs. Did I wake you up?" she asked, her voice shaking for reasons she couldn't explain.
"No, not really. You know me. You need something?" His voice was open, gentle, and she felt as if she'd made the right decision calling him.
She took a breath, clutching the phone in her hand. "I need someone to come take me to the hospital."
There was only a brief pause. "Your water break?"
"Yes," she told him.
"Okay, hang tight. I'll be there soon."
The line clicked, and she sent a quick text to Abby, who she knew was probably asleep, but would be awake long before she actually had the baby. On a whim, she opened back up Tony's contact information, hesitating only briefly before hitting the "call" button. She listened as the phone rang once, twice, three times. She was entirely convinced he was either very deeply asleep or ignoring her when the phone stopped ringing.
"Ziva?"
"H-hey." She started rubbing her arm nervously.
There was a brief moment of silence before he asked, "What is it?" She took some relief in the fact that the question wasn't delivered harshly.
"I... I just... I thought I would let you know that... that my water broke. Uh, I called Gibbs to come get me and take me to the hospital."
There was another silence, this one much longer. "Why didn't you call me first?"
"I... I did not want to bother you," she tried to explain, realizing that he was right.
"It's my kid, Ziva. I would want to know that you're going into labor." He was shuffling around now, she noted. She heard a drawer open, and then his closet door.
"I know, sorry." She paused, playing with the fabric of her shirt. "Do you want to be there?"
She knew he was getting ready to go, but she couldn't help asking. "Yeah, Ziva. I want to be there. You have time, though, right? I can take a shower?"
"Yes," she replied simply. "I will... uh, see you when you get there. I can get someone to text you when I know what room I'll be in."
"Okay." The line went dead, and finally, the realization of what was happening dawned on her, and she sat down on her couch, tears starting to slip down her cheeks.
This was it. In the span of the next day, depending on how many hours she was in labor, her little girl would be here. She would finally be forced to make the decision that she had struggled with. She had been set on one decision, and then she hadn't been so sure, and then she'd been putting off thinking about it.
Now, she didn't have a choice. She was going to have to decide what was best for her baby. Should she call the Slatons, just to be safe? Maybe she would do that later. She'd have to call the agency, too, and make sure they got all the paperwork, if adoption was what she decided to do.
The baby shifted, just slightly, and it almost felt as if she moved a little lower this time. Ziva put her hand over the lower part of her belly, letting her thumb run over where she could feel the baby's foot. She felt a little bit of pressure coming from the spot, as if the baby was trying to stretch, and she couldn't help but smile.
"I love you," she told her firmly, another tear slipping down her cheek. "I hope that no matter what, you know that."
Five minutes later, Gibbs was knocking on her door. "You got a bag?" he asked when he walked in. She gestured to the duffel bag she had sitting by the door, and he picked it up, slinging it over his shoulder. Finally, he turned to her, and she wondered if she looked as scared as she felt. She guessed that she did, because he reached up and smoothed her hair down, leaning forward to kiss the side of her head.
"You're gonna be okay, Ziver." His voice soothed her, and she felt herself relax. "Good, you need to relax. Keep your blood pressure down."
She nodded, and when he wrapped an arm around her shoulders on the way down to his car, she felt herself relax even more. Somehow, the scent of bourbon and sawdust together was more comforting than she'd ever imagined it could be, and when they were in his car, she found herself talking to him.
"I called Tony, told him what was going on." Gibbs didn't say anything, and she continued. "I know he really wants me to keep her, and I... do not know what he has told you, or how bad he has made me seem, but if I do wind up letting that family adopt her, it is not because I don't want her."
"I think he knows that," Gibbs told her softly.
"It will be because I think it is what's best for her," she added, looking at his face for any indications of what he was thinking, but it was pointless. He was, and would always be, a very difficult person to read.
"Is it?" was the only response she got.
She opened her mouth to answer him, but closed it quickly. A silence enveloped them, and she felt the baby squirm just the slightest bit- like she was trying to get herself ready. Finally, after a long moment, she looked back over at Gibbs as he got to a red light. He looked over at her as well, his face expectant, but she knew that he wasn't making her give him any answers if she didn't want to.
However, she found herself telling him the truth, anyway. "I... I do not know."
And then she looked away, forcing herself to take deep breaths and stay calm, even though every part of her was screaming for help, because even though she'd spent weeks adamantly telling Tony, and herself, that adoption was the best option, she suddenly wasn't so sure about anything anymore.