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Will Daddy remember...?

He was in the wrong place at the wrong time - and it changed our lives forever...


Published by: Laura Hinton and Lauren Brown
Published on: 31 January 2013

My boyfriend Callum dipped his elbow in the bath water. Then he gently picked up our three-week-old daughter Grace and lowered her in.
‘There you go Moo Moo,' he whispered, using his pet name for her. I watched, totally in awe of him, knowing how lucky I was. It didn't help that motherhood hadn't come naturally to me. I'd had trouble feeding her and also struggled with the lack of sleep.
Those first nights, I'd cried along with our little one as we both struggled to get comfortable while she fed.
‘Don't worry,' Callum soothed. ‘Just take your time.'
‘I don't know what I'd have done without you,' I said.
‘Hey, I've just had more experience,' Callum said.
‘I helped with my little brother. You're a brilliant mum.'
We'd both been just 17 when I'd fallen pregnant. And yet, from the beginning, Callum had been fantastic, transforming into a devoted daddy.
‘Look at these,' he grinned one day, holding out a tiny pair of Minnie Mouse trainers.
Before we knew it, Grace was six-weeks-old and Callum's friend Jordan was turning 18.
‘You haven't been out in ages,' I encouraged him. ‘Go on, go have some fun!'
When the night came, he planted a kiss on mine and Grace's heads before leaving.
However, he still text me all night long...
‘Daddy's missing us,' I whispered to Grace, before drifting off to sleep. Then, at 4am the phone woke me up with a start. It was Callum's mate Dom on the line.
‘Get to the hospital,' he said.
In a panic I pulled on some clothes, got Grace and hopped in a taxi.
‘I bet Daddy's got drunk and hurt himself,' I whispered to her. But when we arrived, his mum Kate was already there.
‘What are you doing here?' I frowned.
‘It's bad, love,' she said quietly, starting to explain. ‘The boys were leaving a nightclub when a group of lads gave them trouble,' she said. ‘Callum was the peacemaker, but as he walked away, one of them took a swing at him from behind. He then hit his head really hard on
the concrete...'
Just then, a doctor appeared in the room.
‘Callum's on a ventilator,' he explained. ‘He's suffered bleeding on the brain and needs emergency surgery.'
This couldn't be happening...
I was allowed to see him briefly just before.
For the next four hours, all we could do was wait.
‘We've removed part of his skull to relieve the pressure,' the doctor explained, once Callum was out of surgery.
Taking a deep breath, we were led into his room. There was a huge bandage over his head, but you could see that the right side of his skull had sunken in. He needed a tracheostomy to fit a breathing tube in his throat, too. Doctors then told us they didn't even know whether he would wake up.
As he lay there, I stroked the Grace tattoo that he'd had done on his forearm.
‘Moo Moo really needs you,' I whispered.
The hours blurred into days but I barely slept. Grace wasn't even allowed in to see her daddy.
‘Callum's always been the strong one,' I sobbed to his mum one day.
‘He was scared about becoming a parent, too,' Kate admitted to me. ‘When you were in labour, he cried every time he left the room.'
‘Really?' I croaked. He'd been there for me then, now I had to be there for him.
But... ‘If he wakes, it's likely he'll have forgotten the last month,' the doctor warned. ‘He might not even remember Grace.'
To help, I decided to take in loads of photos of Grace and also placed her Minnie Mouse trainers at the end of his bed. Now we just had to wait for him to wake up.
He'd been unconscious for 13 days and I was at home spending a rare moment with Grace, when the hospital called.
‘He's come out of the coma,' the nurse said. That was all I needed to hear.
Rushing to the hospital, my heart raced. Would he even remember me?
But when he looked up, I saw the look on his face. Relief flooded through me. His eyes settled on the snap of Grace at the end of his bed.
Smiling, I brought it up close to him. He moved his head forward to kiss it.
‘You can see her soon,' I said.He moved his lips to speak, but nothing came out because of the tube. For now, he had to concentrate on his recovery, even learning to eat and drink again.
‘Here you go,' I smiled, spooning some food in his mouth one day.
‘Open wide!' I teased. He rolled his eyes, knowing I was taking the mickey.
‘Thanks,' he finally croaked, his voice sounding similar to an old man. It was almost like I had another child to look after. But I then remembered all those times he'd been strong and patient with me. I knew I had to do it for him.  
When I walked in his room one day, I saw he was trying to stand with the help of a nurse. When he saw me though, he slumped back on the bed, embarrassed. 
‘Remember what you told me,' I said. ‘You can do this, too'
‘I'm trying,' he said, feeling determined. His voice sounded a lot better now as the tube had been removed.
Just a couple of days later, he was able to take a couple of steps using the walker. 
Then, two weeks later, he'd left intensive care. This meant
I could now take Grace in to see him. Callum's eyes lit up. He wasn't strong enough to hold her, but the joy was written all over his face - Grace was the best type of medicine. Looking up, I saw part of his bandage had been removed. His hair had been partially shaved and there was a jagged scar running across his head.
‘My god,' I gulped, trying to hide my shock. Half of his head had sunk inwards, similar to a fruit bowl. But he's still my Callum, I kept reminding myself.
Over the next two months, he needed intense rehabilitation until he was finally discharged. But he was still very frail - he'd lost 4st and needed to use a wheelchair.
‘I think it's best if he moves in with me for a while,' his mum suggested one day. ‘This isn't giving up, you know.'
‘You're right,' I nodded, sadly.
I was exhausted and couldn't do it all by myself.
‘It's for the best,' Callum agreed, but I could tell he was gutted to be leaving us.
Later that night, Grace lifted our spirits, though.
‘Dada!' she gurgled.
‘Her first word!' I whooped.
‘Wow,' Callum said, grinning proudly. We'd visit Callum every day, cherishing being a proper family for those precious hours.
Just a few months later, I went round to find he'd asked Kate to cook us steak, chips and peas. There were candles scattered everywhere, too.
‘Very romantic,' I teased, feeding him some steak.
‘I do try,' he chuckled.
Afterwards, I was helping him onto the sofa when he suddenly pulled a ring out of his pocket.
‘Will you marry me?' he asked.
‘Of course I will,' I gushed, bursting into tears. After everything we'd been through, it was just perfect.
Finally, last October, 18-year-old Tom Cooper, the man that had attacked Callum, was found guilty of grievous bodily harm and jailed for 27 months. But nothing will ever give Callum back the life that he once had. We still live separately and he's confined to a wheelchair. He also can't be a proper daddy to his Moo Moo and I know that kills him.
He still needs more surgery to reconstruct his skull, too. But, after that, we'll get married. He's already set a target of being able to walk down the aisle by himself.
We don't know what the future holds, but, because of Callum, I know that we'll stay strong whatever life throws at us.
Beth Sutton, 18, Salford, Manchester