You are nearing the end of your third trimester as the Kings enter the Stanley Cup Playoffs. The circumstances were not ideal, but you were determined to watch every game, even if you had to watch it from the delivery room. Your boyfriend Drew, however, did not feel the same way.
“Y/N, please just stay at home and relax. The baby could be here any day!” His eyebrows knitted together in concern, and his mouth curved into a worried frown. He looked tired, and you could tell this was as hard, if not harder, on him than it was on you.
“Hun don’t worry about me,” you smiled and tried to take away some of his concern. “This baby is going to be born whether you’re in New York playing a game, or if we’re just sitting at home eating breakfast. You just need to focus on winning that Stanley cup so we can put our little girl in it and take her picture.”
He shook his head and smiled tiredly. “How can you even think of something like that right now?”
“Come on Drew, that’s what everyone wants to do when they win the cup: have their kid’s picture taken with it! Or, in our case, in it.” You smiled that cheeky grin you knew he loved and he pulled you into a hug.
“Just be careful, okay?” Drew looked you in the eyes and placed his hands on the sides of your face, gently cradling it. “I’m worried about you, both of you,” he added and carefully laid his hand on your stomach.
“Doughty, it’s going to take more than a hockey game to send this girl into early labor; I’m tougher than that,” you said confidently, and he smiled before finally agreeing.
“Just don’t do anything crazy at the game tonight, okay?”
You nodded, and he left to get ready for the game.
As the first overtime period ended, you were starting to question your earlier declaration of a hockey game not being enough to send you into early labor. Although at this point, it wouldn’t really be early since your due date was sometime this week. You hadn’t had any contractions, exactly, but there were a few “practice contractions” that were enough to send you into a panic attack. You were sitting with the WAGs, and the ones that had their own kids assured you that this was normal, so you gritted your teeth and tried to deal with it. You were determined to be there for Drew after the game, whether they won and you would be going out on the ice to give him a kiss, or if they lost and you would be comforting him.
The minutes ticked by and you worried this game would go into a third OT, something you didn’t think you could handle. Just when you thought you couldn’t take another suspenseful, stressful minute, Martinez scored and made the Kings the 2014 Stanley Cup champions.
“Oh my God Drew,” you said to him after the game. “I didn’t think I was going to make it. Seriously, I have never loved Alec Martinez more. Can we name our baby after him?” You joked and Drew burst out laughing.
“At this point, I’m so happy I don’t think I care what we name him. Or her,” he added with a smile, and kissed your cheek.
-Lila
