Dad, Tom’s story is one of struggle and fear, but it’s also a story of resilience, and the power of simple, non-judgemental support from Dad Matters. In his own words, Tom tells us how vital it is that dads are heard and supported during tough times.  

“I’m Tom, dad to Tommy, Reign and Ophelia with my partner Kelsey. Ophelia was born prematurely at 34-weeks and has had serious, complex health issues from the start. She struggled to feed, had severe abdominal complications, and later needed several major surgeries. At one point she was fed through an nasogastric (NG) tube 24/7; now she has an ileostomy stoma and a gastrostomy. Her digestive system simply doesn’t work in the way it should, and she needs constant medical care. It meant long hospital stays, endless beeping machines, and terrifying moments where she crashed on the ward and had to be rushed to ICU. Those moments stay with you. 

We were in and out of hospital for 8-9 months. The intensity of it broke me down. I was signed off work for five months because my mental health was through the floor. I felt like I was living in a constant state of, ‘what’s next? What else is going to happen?’ 

Because Kelsey stayed with Ophelia, I was at home with our other two young children. Reign was only three and kept asking, “when’s Mummy and Ophelia coming home?” It was on her mind all the time. She’d just started pre-school too, so her whole world shifted and I carried this awful parental guilt, knowing the only time she saw her mum was on a hospital ward in the evening, when everyone was tired and hungry. Those visits became so stressful, we’d end up shouting at the kids to stop running around and I’d leave feeling terrible. 

We have no family nearby, no real support network. And when Kelsey had to quit work to become Ophelia’s full-time carer, the financial strain hit hard. I reduced my hours too, partly because I couldn’t cope mentally, so I could help with caring for her, and because caring for Ophelia involves a lot of admin too - prescriptions, stoma supplies, appointments etc. I also genuinely thought I might have PTSD from the traumatic experiences at the hospital. 

One day at a clinic, our health visitor Nicola asked how we were coping. Kelsey spoke while I sat there tearing up. I wiped them away and I thought it had gone unnoticed. But when Kelsey was next with Nicola at an appointment alone, Nicola mentioned Dad Matters. I’d seen posters in the hospital but never reached out. Kelsey thought it would be good for me. 

When Matt from Dad Matters first texted me, I ignored it initially. I thought it would be some awkward support circle, I didn’t have the emotional space for that. 

A few weeks passed but after a particularly bad week, Kelsey said, “Just call him.” So I did. And from that moment, everything felt different. I was surprised when Matt said, “What time works for you? Where would be best for you to meet?” That flexibility alone made me feel seen.  

We met in cafés near my work, no pressure, just conversations. Then I met Paul, too. It was really interesting to speak to two different dads of different generations, it felt good to have both of them listening to me. At first just simple things like asking me, “what’s on your mind?” really helped. They understood hospitals, they knew healthcare professionals and would advocate for us. It felt like talking to friends who also knew exactly who to call to help us which meant so much. It was another weight off my mind.  

Dad Matters helped me realise my feelings mattered too. I’d convinced myself they didn’t, compared to what Kelsey and Ophelia faced. But they showed me I’m a normal dad, a normal human being. Being a dad can feel lonely, even in a full house. No matter what you are struggling with, having that safe, non-judgmental space kept me going. It’s a lifeline for dads. Honestly, Dad Matters saved my family, and they saved me.”