The amount of utter contentment I feel at this moment cannot be matched to anything in my entire life.

Harper is now reaching six months into her pregnancy and baby girl is getting closer and closer to popping out. Her stomach is getting rather large but I absolutely adore the big bump. It makes a wonderful house for baby girl.

Yes. Baby girl. Because we cannot seem to come up with any names that would suit our family. It needs to be a name that holds meaning but at the same time isn't outdated, a name that fits well with my last name and Harper and I's first names.

The thoughts about our baby's name takeover my mind as I stand in the locker room preparing for our game.

Currently we're in LA, about to play the Oakland Raiders.

Everyone knows this game is an easy win. Oakland hasn't had a good team in years.

What's really on everyone's mind is the events taking place after the game.

The baby shower.

It's somehow been kept completely a secret from Harper. We've flown her parents and Logan down here and everything.

Our hotel suite is being decorated as we speak.

It needs to be perfect, because she's perfect. And if the baby shower is anything less than that I will not be satisfied.

***

As expected the team pulls through with a win.

I exit the locker room and search for Harper, anxious about the upcoming events.

There she is. Her pregnant body, just a shadow outlined by the light outside the tunnel. I walk up to her quietly, admiring her beautiful self as she inspects the pictures on her camera with a smile on her face.

It was a breathtaking view.

As my the shadow of my body mixed with hers, she quickly looked up, now noticing my presence.

A heartstopping smile takes over her face as she looks at me, it's the type of smile that I hope to be the only person to get from her. A smile that just begs for me to kiss her.

I cup her small face with my much larger hand, my other hand snaking to the small of her back to press us as close together as her bump will allow, and I simply press my lips to hers. It was slow, but passionate at the same time. Her hands found themselves tugging at my freshly washed hair.

Our lips separate, our foreheads pressed against one anothers. The only sound is that of our breaths mixing together.

"You played great today, but you always do so that's not a surprise," she said in a whisper.

My eyes close savoring the moment.

Not enough time later I pull away, but not before placing a kiss on her forehead.

We have someplace to be, and I need to remember that before I get ahead of myself.

I grab her hand and begin leading her out the tunnel and towards the parking lot where the bus and everyone on it is waiting.

When Harper sits down a sigh of relief escapes her lips. Though she is now out of her wheelchair it still hurts for her to be on her feet for extended periods of time, such as a football game. Not to mention that since she is now two human-beings instead of one, there is more weight being pressured on it.

I reach my hand over to her sore hip, gently massaging the soreness away. She leans her head back and closes her eyes, enjoying the temporary fix.

By the time we reach the hotel I've almost talked myself into canceling the whole baby shower. She doesn't seem like she's really in the partying mood. She seems tired and ready to just take a bath and go to bed.

I don't want this to be a bad experience for her. This is supposed to be a happy occasion, not one that she has to struggle through.

And although every sign said to send out a mass text canceling it, something made me decide to go through with it.

Harper and I waited 'til everyone else was off the bus until heading off ourselves. We usually do this anyways since it takes her a little longer to move around, but of course we had to stall so everyone could get to our room before us, but she didn't know that.

I try to take as much time as possible collecting mine and her equiptment. But no matter how long I took Harper didn't seem to be getting angry or agitated, which is weird. Aren't pregnant women supposed to be more agressive people, get annoyed easier? So far I have yet to encounter that from Harper. Maybe I'm just a lucky dad.

I mean, hormonal or not I know I'm a lucky dad. I have the most beautiful and kind wife-to-be, and a sweet babygirl on the way. How much luckier could I get?

Once I had all the equiptment piled on one arm, I extend my other to Harper. Off we went, arms locked, up to what I hope to be a beautiful gathering.

"How're you feeling baby?" I ask as the elevator doors shut.

She leans her head on my shoulder, whilst still keeping a firm lock on my arm, "Better now."

"Good. I'm glad," I whisper as I rest my head on top of hers.

No more conversation was needed, we just sat in silence, basking in the intimacy of the moment.

But alas the moment was disrupted by the opening of the doors and the ding of the bell.

Once we reach the door to our room I scan my card and then gesture for her to go first.

As she turns the handle I hold my breath in hope that this doesn't blow up in my face and this supposed grand gesture turns into the reason she drops my sorry self.

It's pitch black in the room when she opens the door.

"Myles I could've sworn we left a lamp on-"

"SURPRISE!"

Harper takes a few steps back in surprise, taking in the scene before us.

Pink streamers were everywhere. Baby girl banners were strung up wherever there was space, and the whole suite was littered with friends and family.

I try and sneak my head around to catch her reaction but before I could see her face she turns around and leaps into my arms, almost causing me to drop everything, including her camera equiptment. But if buying her new camera equiptment is the price I have to pay to get her to leap into my arms and squeeze me tightly, I'd still do it a million times over.

She pulls away from the hug but then grabs my face with her soft, delicate hands and kisses me. Not hot and heavy, or nearly as passionate as before, but it still had me seeing stars.

She excitedly runs off towards her parents and Logan, embracing them each in a hug of their own.

I have to bite my tongue to keep from scolding her to be careful. I don't want to deter her mood.

I walk back to the bedroom of the suite and place all of the stuff I was carrying gently on the bed.

When I rejoin the party the sight before warms my heart.

To see Harper with the parents she so obviosly adores brings thoughts to mind.

Why is it that wives take the names of the husbands? This also causes the children to have the same last name as the husbands. Not that I don't want my children to have my last name because I most certainly do. But I just feel bad for the maternal grandparents because even though the grandchildren are just as important as their own children, they are the only immediate family that do not share the same name.

I watch as Fiona and Reuben feel Harper's stomach, amazed by the kicks of the baby.

I don't want to disrupt the tradition of the wife taking the last name of the husband, that would cause so much drama with social media. But hyphenating makes things really for paperwork and school purposes.

Maybe I'm thinking too much into this. Maybe no one else thinks about things like this and I'm completely crazy. But I wish there was some way to put some of Fiona and Reuben into the name.

I shake my head of my crazy thoughts, deciding that I should start mingling before I'm called out on it.

***

Finally everyone has left and now Harper and I are laying in bed, snuggled up to one another.

My own inner monologue from earlier still has yet to leave my mind.

I keep thinking about it and thinking about i-

Oh my gosh. I've got it! It's perfect, and beautiful just as it should be.

It really couldn't fit our family more.

"Harper," I whisper, hoping she has yet to fall alsleep.

She opens her eyes and looks up at me, giving me her undivided attention.

"I know exactly what we should name her."