When Harry Phipps was born, he looked like any other newborn — small, fragile, and perfect in the eyes of his parents. But there was one subtle detail that quietly set him apart. His head was larger than normal, long and narrow, with a raised ridge running along the top. At first, it seemed like just another harmless quirk of infancy.
No one could have imagined it would lead to a seven-hour operation in which surgeons would cut his head from ear to ear, break his skull apart, and rebuild it piece by piece.
Harry was born in January 2013 to Amy Wilson and Charlie Phipps, both 26, who immediately noticed that baby hats never quite fit their son. Still, Harry passed every developmental check. He smiled, played, and grew like any other healthy baby. Doctors reassured the family that everything was fine.
Then, when Harry was eight months old, chance intervened.
While being treated for gastroenteritis at hospital, a paediatric nurse noticed the unusual size and shape of his head. She gently suggested it should be measured. Amy admits her first reaction was defensive — no parent wants to hear that something might be wrong with their baby. But the nurse persisted, and the family was referred for further checks.
At first, even the specialist wasn’t overly concerned.
Then came the phone call that changed everything.
Doctors suspected sagittal craniosynostosis, a rare condition in which the plates of a baby’s skull fuse too early, preventing the brain from growing normally. A scan confirmed it. Harry’s skull had fused along the sagittal suture at the top of his head.
“It came completely out of the blue,” Amy said. “Our world just fell apart.”
Sagittal craniosynostosis affects roughly one in 1,800 to 3,000 babies and is far more common in boys. Left untreated, it can cause dangerous pressure on the brain, leading to chronic headaches, vision problems, breathing difficulties, and long-term developmental issues. Doctors warned that without surgery, Harry’s head would become increasingly misshapen — and the consequences could be severe.
There was only one option.
Major surgery.
At just 13 months old, Harry was scheduled for an operation at Great Ormond Street Hospital — one of the most complex procedures performed on infants. On March 12, surgeons began a painstaking, seven-and-a-half-hour operation.
They cut Harry’s scalp from ear to ear.
Then they broke his skull into multiple sections.
And finally, they reconstructed it — reshaping and repositioning each piece like a jigsaw puzzle — to allow his brain the space it needed to grow safely.
Amy and Charlie were warned there was a small but real risk their son might not survive.
As surgeons worked, the couple wandered the hospital corridors in shock, crying, waiting, clinging to hope.
When the operation finally ended, they waited eight agonising hours before they were allowed to see their son.
“Nothing prepares you for that moment,” Amy said. “He was lying in intensive care with tubes and a drain coming out of his head. He didn’t look like our baby.”
The following day, Harry’s face swelled so badly he couldn’t open his eyes. The sight was devastating. His head was wrapped in bandages, and a long incision ran across his scalp like a headband — a scar that would forever mark what he had endured.
But then something extraordinary happened.
By the third day, Harry was sitting up. He was alert. He was smiling. At one point, he even started pulling at the bandages around his head, as if annoyed by the inconvenience.
Slowly, the swelling went down. The shape of his head changed — no longer long and narrow, but round and natural. After five days in hospital, Harry was finally allowed to go home.
Ten weeks later, he was back to his cheerful self.
His blond hair began growing over the scar, softening its appearance. Doctors confirmed his development was on track, and although his skull still feels bumpy beneath the skin as it continues to knit back together, his prognosis is positive.
“He’s bounced back amazingly,” Amy said. “We are so proud of our brave boy.”
While Harry will continue to have regular check-ups to monitor his development, his parents are hopeful the worst is behind them.
Grateful beyond words, the family decided to give back.
Harry’s father, Charlie, completed a 20-mile sponsored assault course to raise money for Great Ormond Street Hospital — the place that gave their son a future. For Amy and Charlie, the scars on Harry’s head are no longer symbols of fear, but of survival.
Their son’s skull was once broken apart and rebuilt by human hands.
Today, it holds a little boy who is thriving.
And to his parents, that feels nothing short of a miracle.
