NHL Imagines

Tomás Tatar

Y/N POV

I held a wriggling Mila in my arms. Her hands were flailing and she was crying a river. "Shhh," I cooed. "Mommy's getting your food ready!" Her milk was currently sitting in the microwave, warming up to just the right temperature. Mila was our second baby. She was only a few months old, and we were already struggling under the great amount of pressure that came with two babies. Our first, Adam, was about 3 and kept putting up a fight on which channel should be playing on TV. We've succumbed to the crying, making sure it was on The Wiggles almost 24/7. I couldn't watch American Horror Story or Big Brother anymore. And Tomás couldn't watch SportsCentre or TSN.

Tomás, at the moment, was trying to get Adam to fall asleep by cradling him back and forth in his muscular arms. He was singing quietly, walking from the living room to the kitchen and back.

"Babe," He called from the living room.

"Yeah?"

"I think Adam had a little accident.." He trailed off, and I knew exactly what he was referring to. "Diapers are upstairs," I informed while grabbing the milk from the microwave. I squirted a sample on my arm, making sure it was at a suitable temperature. When it was, I brought the nipple to Mila's lips, hoping to silence her as she drank. I sighed in relief as she started to suck on it, easing the noise in the room.

Tomás appeared at the doorway, still holding Adam. "Oh, uhm, I was hoping you could do it?"

"Tomás, my arms are full. You're going to have to do it."

He groaned, making his way upstairs.

Being parents was not easy. A lot of the times, while Tomás was at practice or getting ready for a game, I had to take care of the kids myself. Not that I minded, seeing as though Rachel, Jimmy's wife, was around a lot, she'd help me take care of them. Still, the struggle was unbearable. Which is why I haven't told Tomás that I'm pregnant, again. I know it's something I should tell him right away, but I can't bring myself to think how he may react. He's always telling me how much time the kids take up in our lives, and how little sleep he gets. It's only normal, I mean. They're still young and are going to be a bit stubborn for a few more years, hopefully, if everything goes smoothly. Still, I have this nagging feeling at the back of my mind that he won't be happy.

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"Just a scoop of sugar,"

I grabbed the mug of coffee for Rachel, pouring in a bit of sugar for her. I placed the cup on the counter in front of her, as she blew on the steam carefully. The team was playing the St. Louis Blues tonight, in Detroit, of course. Rachel and I both decided to stay in and watch the game from the comfort of a home environment.

"Is everything okay?" She asked, hesitantly. I firmly grasped my mug in my hands, feeling them warm up at the touch.

"Was Jimmy happy when you told him you were pregnant again?" I ask, completely ignoring her question.

"Of course! I mean, with another baby on the way, he knows it's going to be lots of work, but he's willing to adapt. Why?"

I sighed, keeping my gaze on the black liquid filled in my cup.

"Is there something you want to tell me, hun?" She prodded, gently.

"I'm pregnant," I state, barely above a whisper. But her sharp intake of breath informed me that she must've heard. She cupped her mouth with both hands, her eyes wide. She jumped out of her chair, ran around the counter and flung her arms around my shoulders. I laughed lightly, hugging her back.

"Oh my god! Y/N, I'm so happy for you! Congratulations! How far along are you?"

"Only a few weeks."