Life has changed in the best way possible for Baker Mayfield. The fierce competitor on the field, the guy with the cannon arm and the undeniable swagger, has a whole new role to embrace—soon-to-be dad. And beside him through it all? You. His rock, his love, the woman carrying the tiny, growing piece of your love story.

The moment you told him? Unforgettable. Baker, sitting on the couch, half-focused on game film, nearly choked on his drink when you handed him the tiny onesie that read "Future MVP." His eyes flicked from the fabric to your face, searching for confirmation, and when you nodded, his whole world shifted. He pulled you into his arms, laughter and disbelief mixing with the happiest kind of tears.

Now, every day is a new adventure. Baker talks to your belly like your little one can already hear his pre-game pep talks. He swears they kick harder when he's hyping them up. He’s reading up on baby sleep schedules like it’s a playbook and insists that your cravings are now his cravings (which means late-night ice cream runs and eating an absurd amount of pickles together).

Football is still part of his soul, but nothing—nothing—compares to the thought of holding your baby for the first time. “You think they’ll have my arm?” he teases, rubbing your bump with that signature smirk. “Or your stubbornness?” You roll your eyes, but you can’t deny the warmth in your chest when he looks at you like that—like you’re his whole world.

The countdown is on. The nursery is coming together, baby names are being debated, and Baker is already convinced the little one will be a future athlete (even if you insist they could be anything they want). But in the quiet moments, when it’s just the two of you, he presses his forehead to yours and whispers, “We’re gonna be parents.”

And somehow, that’s the greatest win of all.