Another lil Benley collection

Pack It Up

Miranda sat on the nursery floor, surrounded by the soft pastels and tiny clothes that filled the room. The gentle hum of the fan was the only sound, a stark contrast to the silence in her heart.  Each piece of baby gear, every folded onesie, and plush toy had been chosen with love. Now, it all felt like a cruel reminder of what they had lost.

As she methodically folded a small, knitted hat in pale pink, Ben walked in. He stood in the doorway for a moment, watching her. "You don't have to do this right now," he said softly.

Miranda looked up, her eyes red but determined. "I need to," she insisted. "I want it done."

Ben sighed but nodded, kneeling beside her. "Okay," he agreed. "I'll help."

They worked in silence, the only sound the rustling of fabric and the occasional creak of the floorboards. They carefully packed away the mobile with tiny animals, the stack of storybooks she had already started reading aloud, the crib itself—each item a small goodbye to the future they had envisioned.

Suddenly, Miranda kicked a box over. It was an accident and she wasn't upset at herself for kicking the box nor was she upset the box fell but rather she was just upset in general. After kicking the box she mumbled some curse words something along the lines of 'who put the damn box there' and 'shit the damn box fell over'. But all mushed together in a flurry of frustration.

Ben reached out to her, concern etched on his face, but she pulled away.

"We need to finish this," she insisted, her voice trembling with emotion.

"Miranda, maybe we should take a break," Ben suggested, his tone gentle.

But Miranda's emotions had reached a boiling point. "No" she exclaimed, her voice raw with emotion. "I can't just take a break from this. I can't escape it"

Ben took a step back, giving her space. She stood up, fists clenched at her sides. "I hadn't even thought about having another kid," she said, her voice breaking. "I was fine just having Tuck. We never even discussed the idea of having a baby.  And then suddenly we're having a baby, and I get my hopes up. I was going to have a little girl, Ben. A little girl. And then, suddenly, I wasn't."

Tears streamed down her face as she continued. "I thought crying would help, or drinking tea, or lighting a candle, or packing up this room. But nothing helps. Nothing."

Ben reached out and pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly as she sobbed. "I'm so sorry," he whispered. "I miss her too."

For a moment, they stood together, sharing their grief. The nursery around them, now a place of both memories and loss, seemed to close in. Miranda's tears soaked into Ben's shirt, but he didn't let go.

"I don't know how to make it better," she admitted finally, her voice muffled against his chest.

"Neither do I," Ben said softly. "But we'll figure it out. Together."

Miranda nodded, taking a deep, shaky breath. They still had a long way to go, but for the first time, she felt a glimmer of hope. They would face this pain together, one step at a time. And maybe, just maybe, that would be enough.

After Miranda's tears had finally subsided, Ben gently helped her to her feet and guided her out of the nursery. She leaned heavily against him as he led her to their bedroom, where he tenderly tucked her into bed.

"Try to get some rest, sweetheart," he whispered

Miranda nodded weakly, exhaustion etched into every line of her face. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to drift into a restless sleep, her dreams haunted by what could have been.