This year, Mother’s Day had a new meaning for me – it was my first as Liv’s mum. I had imagined big things: Breakfast in bed, flowers, maybe even a surprise trip. But when the day came, we just wanted to be together. No schedule, no pressure. Just the three of us – me, him and our little girl – in the soft glow of the morning light streaming through the nursery.

We spent the whole day exactly where we felt most comfortable: in Liv’s room. Where her laughter echoes off the pastel-coloured walls, where bedtime stories are told and where dreams begin. On this particular day, it became our hideaway. We played, we giggled, we cuddled. We watched as Liv explored and grew before our eyes, and her ‘I ♥ Mum’ bouncer said it all, without a single word.

There was no big production – and that’s what made it perfect. It was about presence instead of gifts. It was about noticing the way he looked at her when she smiled. About her small hands reaching for my face. About the quiet, sacred beauty of a family.

Mother’s Day doesn’t have to be loud. Sometimes the quietest moments are the ones that sing loudest in our hearts.