Ex killed my baby and I won’t let him forget
Karly Hopson, 29, from Cleethorpes, won’t forget her son, so why should his killer be allowed to?
After one last push, the nurse placed baby Ethan on my chest.
Cuddling my newborn, I’d never felt love like it.
I drank in every bit of him – his button nose, mop of red hair, blue eyes – 8lb 2oz of perfection.
I’d become pregnant at the end of a short relationship and his dad wasn’t around.
I’d be a young, single mum, but I couldn’t wait.
My mum Julie, then 50, had helped me decorate the nursery in sunshine yellow.
And when Ethan and I came home, I took to being a mum like a duck to water.
Ethan was a dream, sleeping through the night by six weeks, happy, with a cheeky grin.
Then, one day in October 2011, an old mate, Jason Redgrave, then 24, messaged me on Facebook.
he asked. I’d known Jason briefly, lost touch when he’d joined the Army.
After we’d messaged a bit, I asked him over for tea.
Jason was funny, kind – and good with Ethan, then four months.
He’d entertain him while I whipped up a spag bol, and romance soon bloomed.
That December, I’d been invited to a mate’s birthday and Jason offered to babysit.
We’d only been together a few weeks, and I’d only ever left Ethan with Mum.
But the pub was just around the corner and I’d only be gone two hours.
I fed and bathed Ethan, put him to bed, kissed him goodnight and, at 9pm, headed out.
A little later, Jason sent a text to say that Ethan was still sleeping. But, at 10.50pm, he sent another.
Ring me now, it read. Worried, I called at once. ‘Ethan’s not breathing properly!’ Jason gasped.
My stomach dropped, and I felt sick and terrified. ‘Call an ambulance!’ I yelled. Racing home, flying through the front door, I saw Ethan on the sofa, lifeless – paramedics trying to resuscitate him.
Ethan was bundled into an ambulance, and we were whisked to Grimsby Hospital. My frantic mum met us there, as Ethen was rushed to Intensive Care. As I paced the waiting room, it suddenly occurred to me… Where was Jason? I’d been so focused on Ethan, I’d not spotted Jason in the chaos.
While we waited anxiously, I phoned him. ‘What happened?’ I demanded. ‘I don’t know,’ Jason spluttered. He told me that he’d checked on Ethan and had found him floppy in his crib.
Shortly after, Jason arrived, looking shocked.
‘I’m sorry,’ he muttered. ‘I should have checked on him more.’
Only, as we sat in terrified silence, the police turned up.
I watched, completely stunned, as Jason was arrested, handcuffed and led away. They think he hurt Ethan! I suddenly realised. ‘He wouldn’t…’ I gasped. But before I could take it in, a doctor arrived.
‘Ethan suffered a severe brain bleed,’ he explained.
If he survived, he’d be seriously brain damaged.
I broke down in Mum’s arms, my mind racing with questions. What had happened? Had there been an accident?
I couldn’t believe that Jason would hurt Ethan.
The next morning, Ethan was transferred to Sheffield Children’s Hospital, where a specialist delivered the news I’d dreaded. ‘Ethan is brain dead,’ he said. I was in bits – but there was more. Ethan had a hand-shaped bruise on his face. The truth finally sank in. This was no accident – Jason had viciously attacked my baby.
Now I was faced with the
My beautiful boy lay lifeless on the sofa
agonising decision to turn off his life-support. My heart shattered. I had to let Ethan go. Family came to say goodbye, and as the doctors switched off his lifesupport, I cradled him as his breathing slowed.
‘I’ll always love you,’ I wept, kissing him goodbye.
Ethan, six months, slipped away on 22 December 2011.
Overwhelmed with grief, I moved in with my parents.
In May 2012, the post mortem results came back.
Ethan had suffered bruising to his face and head, and blunt-force trauma to his skull.
The facial bruising was consistent with a slap – there was bleeding between his brain and skull, and in his eyes.
The pathologist concluded Ethan had been shaken, hit on the head, or his skull struck against another object.
‘My poor boy,’ I wept, distraught and disgusted.
Guilt and hate consumed me, and I blamed myself for trusting Jason.
Afterwards, I was broken – I don’t know how I carried on.
In June 2012, Jason Redgrave, 26, appeared at Hull Crown Court charged with murder, and an alternative charge of manslaughter.
He denied hurting Ethan – said he couldn’t explain how his injuries were caused.
But the court heard that Jason lashed out in ‘anger and irritation’, because Ethan started crying while he was sending sexually charged text messages – to a man.
I was horrified. Jason was found not guilty of murder and convicted of manslaughter.
He was jailed for eight years.
‘That’s nothing!’ I sobbed.
Afterwards, I felt so lost.
Then, in 2013, I met someone and fell pregnant.
And, when baby George arrived in October 2014, I was overwhelmed with love again. A year on, Frankie was born. Both boys reminded me of Ethan – the same cheeky smile.
Sadly, it didn’t work out with their dad, but the boys were my whole world. They kept me going. Then, on 22 December 2015 – exactly four years after Ethan died in my arms, I got a call.
After serving half his sentence, Jason was being released. I was furious. Especially when, the following summer, friends spotted him on a dating website using another name.
‘He’s just getting on with life as if nothing’s happened, as if he didn’t kill my baby!’ I sobbed.
In anger, I took a screenshot of his profile and posted it on Facebook.
Donõt meet this man, I wrote, explaining what he’d done.
I wanted to warn other mums what he was capable of.
His profile soon disappeared, and so did Jason.
Until friends texted me some photos of him working at a bar in a restaurant 45 minutes away, under a different name again. ‘I was there recently!’ I cried. Part of the restaurant was even called Ethan’s.
Again, I posted his pictures online, and friends reported Jason to his managers.
Then two police officers showed up at my door.
Jason had made a complaint – about me!
‘He says he’s trying to move on with his life,’ an officer said. But now he’d lost his job. ‘He’s lost his job?’ I cried, so disgusted.
‘I’ve lost my son! How does that even compare?’
The officers were understanding, but warned me that if I did it again, I’d be arrested for harassment. I couldn’t believe it. Apparently, Jason’s changed his name by deed poll several times, so people don’t find out what he did.
Four years behind bars is nothing compared to the life Ethan lost.
I should be planning his 7th birthday party now.
He should be playing with George, four, and Frankie, three.
Jason Redgrave snatched all that away from me.
Why should he get to simply move on?
He killed a defenceless baby and he should never, ever be allowed to forget that.
I blamed myself for trusting him