Little Baby Piglet

A few nervous tears slowly make their way down my warm cheeks. And I literally can’t make them stop, as they fall over the edge. After nine long months, the moment has finally arrived. I thought I’d be calm. Instead I’m an emotional wreck. Then again, being stuck on the sideline, helplessly watching, has never been my thing. It is, and always will be, torture. However, this time, I really need to remain strong. Not so much for myself, but for Ruby. She needs my support; not that I can do much for her. Still, I try. I have to. I do what I think I’m supposed to do: I whisper words of encouragement in her ear.

“Stop talking to me like a fuckin’ team captain, Steven!”

I can’t help but smile. I’m not really surprised. I should have known that would eventually make her snap. It was stupid of me to think otherwise. I know her better than to try and verbally coach her in a vulnerable situation like this one.

“Actions speak louder than words?” I say.

She nods, fighting back tears, as I grab her hand and kiss her knuckles. Then, she closes her eyes and pushes herself to the limit again; her cries of pain cutting through me like a knife. It hurts me almost as bad as breaking my leg against the goalpost. I take a deep breath and wipe her face clean from sweat. A strawberry blond head of hair beginning to show is our reward. It can’t be long now. Soon, I’ll be a father. And she’ll be a mother. Together we’ll be a happy little family.


I swear my heart almost burst when I first laid eyes on her less than a minute ago. She, our ‘Piglet’, is finally here. With ten fingers, ten toes and a cute button for a nose she is pure perfection. Even her loud screams – probably echoing throughout the entire Tampa Bay area – is music to my ears. In fact, she is everything I didn’t even know I wanted until recently.

As ‘Piglet’ is placed on her mother’s chest, after having been wiped clean, I shake my head in awe and move closer to their bedside. Relieved, I now cry tears of joy. I once believed winning the Stanley Cup was as good as life gets; how very naïve of me. Because, despite not having won it yet, I now know for a fact that is completely wrong. Nothing, and I mean nothing, can beat bringing a love child into the world. It’s just not possible.

I’ve had many one-sided conversations with ‘Piglet’ these past nine months. I have told her sweet nothings, secrets, things about the game of hockey and much more. So, she knows me pretty well by now. But, I don’t really know her. Still, she is the one I love the most. I suppose that’s the definition of love at first sight. Now, it’s my time to get to know her. I can’t wait.

“Hey ‘Piglet’, it’s daddy,” I say, gently rubbing my thumb over her small hand.

Ruby smiles tiredly and bites her bottom lip.

“She’s no longer a black and white figure on a screen, Steven. Maybe it’s time for us to start thinking about an actual name?”

I almost don’t hear Ruby’s question as I’m too busy watching ‘Piglet’. Thankfully, she now seems content in her mother’s safe arms, I conclude. Finally, I manage to nod a weak and distracted response, earning myself a small chuckle from Ruby. Instantly I tell her to stop, as I don’t want us to disturb ‘Piglet’. But, that just makes her laugh even more as she strokes my stubbly cheek. I know she doesn’t mean to, but it makes me feel a little stupid.

Ever since the first ultrasound her nickname has been ‘Piglet’. The resemblance with Winnie-the-Pooh’s best friend was just too obvious to deny. When I look at her now, the name ‘Piglet’ doesn’t do her justice at all. The real Piglet is adorable in every way, but still doesn’t hold a candle to our little newborn princess. Yeah, she needs a name alright; a beautiful one.

After some well-deserved rest in Ruby’s arms, it’s time for little ‘Piglet’ to get weighed and measured. As expected she comes through with flying colors; eight pounds heavy, nineteen inches tall. With her first diaper in place and a cute onesie on we return to Ruby’s room, only to find her sound asleep.

“Good job, mommy,” I whisper, as I kiss her still damp forehead. “Sleep tight.”

I take a seat in the comfortable armchair by the window, with ‘Piglet’ resting against my chest. “So, what’s your name, baby girl?” I say, admiring her. “You don’t know? Me neither. But, we can’t very well keep calling you ‘Piglet’, can we?” She looks amused, almost as if she’s challenging me to find the perfect name for her. “That’s the way it’s gonna be, huh? Well, I’ve always liked the name Jewel for a little girl …”

“That’s perfect, babe. I love it,” Ruby says, half awake, before drifting back to sleep with a smile on her lips.

I smile too.

Seemingly satisfied with her new name, baby ‘Piglet’ starts yawning. Soon, I’ll be the only one left awake. But, I don’t mind. I’m holding eight pounds and nineteen inches of perfection in my arms. Because today, June fifth, is the day that Jewel ‘Piglet’ Stamkos was born, making me a daddy for the first time.