NHL Imagines

Marc-Andre Fleury

Being pregnant wasn't exactly a walk in the park. Especially when Marc was gone so often with hockey. When your due date started approaching, the two of you started to get anxious. When the baby didn't come on March 25th, you were as crabby as ever.

"Don't worry sweetie, he'll come soon." Your husband tried consoling you, but you just shot him down.

"Yeah, when you're off on a road trip." You snapped as you paced around your living room. You wanted this baby out now.

Sure, the process was going to be horrible, but then you won't have to deal with the back aches or the baby moving and pressing on your bladder every twenty minutes.

"I will stay with you if I need to."

"No, no." You pushed your hair back and squeezed your eyes shut. "My mom will be here. Go on your roadtrip unless they induce me."

You walked into the kitchen and grabbed a jar of pickles out of the fridge and sat down at the table to eat them. You've always been able to just sit down and eat them right after another, but the pregnancy made your love for pickles stronger.

Just a few days later, your water broke in the comfort of your own home. You rarely went anywhere in fear that it would happen in a completely inopportune moment. The upside of that was Marc was home. He had actually just gotten back from practice and the game was at home the next day.

The two of you rushed to the hospital and you were admitted. Tha labor was long and painful. The contractions got worse and worse every time.

"I can't do this," you cried, clenching onto your husband's hand.

"Yes you can. I know you can." He said softly, rubbing your back with his open hand.

"Well, you're dilated. Time to start pushing!" You rolled your eyes at the over the top cheerful nurse. She obviously wasn't the one that had to start pushing. "One, two, three." She started counting and you started screaming. Marc started telling you things in French to try and sooth your mind.

The only thing that was running through your mind was how you wished you had gotten an epideral.

After a little struggle, it was over. The nurse wrapped your little boy up and set him in your arms.

"You did so good baby." Marc kissed the top of your sweaty head.

They took your son away to clean him off before bringing him back to you. Exhausted, you let your husband hold him for a while. You drank your glass of water and he handed back your son.

"What about Lucas?"

"Lucas is great.