There are no grand declarations here.
No milestones. No birthdays. No ceremonies.
Just an afternoon, warm with filtered sunlight.
A mother, resting. A baby, asleep in her arms. Liv in my arms.
Wrapped in shadows of leaves and the hush of home.
These are the moments we forget to document—because they feel so small.
But they are the heartbeat of everything.
A nap. A quiet. A breath shared.
And in that stillness, a whole universe of love.
Held in Quiet Arms