The pregnancy itself wasn’t easy (Picture: Tara Alexis)

As I lay on the bed, I noticed a subtle change in the student doctors observing my scan. 

Their body language and facial expressions had shifted – suddenly, things felt awkward, off-plan.

Then the sonographer turned to me and said: ‘I’m sorry. There is no heartbeat.’

From then on, everything was in slow motion. It was like I floated to a side room on the ward. I was actually carried, I guess my legs went.  

I was told that I would need to take some tablets to induce labour. I stopped the doctor and asked: ‘I need to give birth?’

‘Yes,’ she replied. I cried without hesitation.

Throughout my pregnancy, I felt like I wasn’t listened to (Picture: Tara Alexis)

Five months before – when I took the pregnancy test in December at the doctor’s surgery – I began listing all the reasons why I couldn’t be pregnant. 

‘I’m a recent drama school graduate,’ I reasoned. ‘I’m going to be cast in The Bill and then go to Hollywood. I’m not a homeowner yet. I’m not married yet!’ 

I remember shaking my head in disbelief after the doctor told me: ‘Tara, you’re pregnant.’

But over time, your heart makes room for this new love. In the days and weeks that followed, I became excited and the capacity to love my baby boy was like nothing I’ve ever known before.

Throughout my pregnancy, I felt like I wasn’t listened to – especially by my midwife. I always imagined that she would be like a friend with medical knowledge, but I didn’t have that relationship. She wasn’t personable and I felt silly asking general questions. 

The pregnancy itself wasn’t easy, either. I had a bleed in the first trimester. At the time, I thought that I was having a miscarriage but I was told that could happen sometimes.

Just a couple of months later – at the end of April – I found out about my miscarriage.

After I was told what had happened, I took one of the tablets I was given by the doctor. They sent me home with my baby dead inside of me after five months of pregnancy. 

My stomach didn’t feel the same. It wasn’t tight in the same way anymore. My boy was there, but he wasn’t there and that is a difficult thing to deal with.

I don’t know if the doctors really considered the psychological impact and the trauma of this. 

I was given very little information about what would happen during labour and very little instruction. I didn’t have a clue what to do, or what to expect.

I laboured for around five hours. The midwife said it was the quickest labour of this type she had ever seen. I was broken.

After my loss, I have a depth of empathy as deep as the ocean (Picture: Tara Alexis)

As a result of this traumatic experience, I was in counselling with the NHS for a year and a half, which was invaluable. I could share all the thoughts I didn’t dare to tell anyone – the dark or insecure ones and the constant thoughts of love for my boy.

My loss was 13 years ago now.

I recently heard someone say that ‘there’s me before my loss’and there’s me after’. I think this is true.

I think it’s different for each person, but I know that after my loss, I have a depth of empathy as deep as the ocean. 

After my counselling – and when I started working again – I was doing life. Then, four years ago, on Mother’s Day, I was taken aback by a text message from my sister where she acknowledged me as a mother, too. I spent the rest of the day in bed crying.

I was later able to see that I had been undervaluing myself and all that I had experienced, and I decided to do something positive for myself and other women who have experienced this type of loss.

There is no quick fix to managing grief so be kind to yourself (Picture: Tara Alexis)

This happens to too many women to not talk about it, especially Black and Asian women where we don’t see ourselves represented. So I founded Mothers of Angels – a non-profit organisation – and I reached out to the charity Sands, who supported me in my first event in October 2021 during Baby Loss Awareness Week. 

Our mission is to give space, to acknowledge and to honour all women who have experienced pregnancy and baby loss.

Our events allow women to acknowledge themselves as mothers – should they choose to – and acknowledge their courage for going through this type of loss and doing life in the best way they can. We honour the women at our events as mothers.

After attending an event, one mum – to her baby, Isaiah – told me: ‘Losing my son left me with a broken heart and a silent home. I felt like no one could understand the pain.’

While another – to her baby, Gabriel – said: ‘This incredible organisation helped me on my journey of healing, acceptance and grief. I know I wasn’t the only one to walk through this pain and that eventually I would be OK, embracing my reality of being a mother to my angel baby.’

If I could go back to when I had my loss and give myself advice, I would say that there is no quick fix to managing grief so be kind to yourself.

On top of that, find a safe space to talk because community is key. Finally, I would tell myself that there is no rush and to go at my own pace.

You can follow Tara on Instagram here and Facebook here.

Do you have a story you’d like to share? Get in touch by emailing [email protected]. 

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I was able to see that I had been undervaluing myself and all that I had experienced.