When Richard Davies looked at the thin scar running down his baby son’s chest, he didn’t see fear or weakness. He saw survival. He saw courage far greater than his own. And he made a decision that would stay with him for the rest of his life — if his son had to carry that mark forever, he would carry it too.
At just 29 years old, Richard became a father to Bobby, a baby born with a heart so fragile that doctors described it simply and devastatingly: he had only half a heart. What should have been a time of excitement and anticipation for Richard and his wife Natasha instead became a journey through medical language they had never heard before, and choices no parent should ever be forced to make.
The first warning came at the routine 20-week scan. Sitting in a quiet room at Singleton Hospital in Swansea, the couple sensed something was wrong before a word was spoken. Further tests followed at the Heath Hospital in Cardiff, where doctors confirmed the diagnosis. Bobby was suffering from multiple congenital heart defects, including tricuspid atresia, hypoplastic right heart syndrome, and a ventricular septal defect — a combination that meant his heart could not function normally on its own.
Natasha later described that moment as the point where “our world came crashing down.” Until then, congenital heart disease was something distant, something that happened to other families. Suddenly, it was their reality.

Doctors laid out three options. They could choose supportive comfort care, allowing Bobby to be born without intervention and live for as long as he could. They could terminate the pregnancy. Or they could choose surgery after birth, knowing it would mean a lifetime of operations, uncertainty, and fear.
“At 22 weeks pregnant, I was inconsolable,” Natasha said. “But Richard and I both knew straight away — we were going to fight for our baby. No matter what.”
And fight they did.
Natasha was closely monitored for the rest of her pregnancy, living scan to scan, heartbeat to heartbeat. In July, Bobby was born at St Michael’s Hospital in Bristol, weighing seven pounds and breathing on his own. That single detail — that he didn’t need immediate surgery — felt like a small miracle.
But it was only the beginning.
At three months old, Bobby underwent his first major operation, a six-hour open-heart surgery known as a bidirectional cavo-pulmonary shunt. Surgeons opened his tiny chest and worked delicately on a heart that would never function like other children’s. When he came out of surgery, a long scar ran across his chest — proof of pain endured and life preserved.
Doctors explained that this would not be his last operation. Bobby will need another major surgery between the ages of three and five to support his heart as he grows. His future will always include hospitals, monitoring, and uncertainty.

For Richard, watching his son go through something so immense changed him forever.
“I didn’t want Bobby to grow up feeling like he was the only one marked by this,” Richard said. “I wanted him to know he’s never alone.”
So Richard did something deeply symbolic. He went to a tattoo studio in Swansea and spent two hours and £200 having an exact replica of Bobby’s surgical scar inked across his own chest. The placement, the length, the shape — all chosen carefully, deliberately.
It wasn’t about attention. It wasn’t about bravery.
It was about solidarity.
Natasha says that through everything, Richard has been her anchor. “The one person we couldn’t have got through this without is my amazing husband,” she said. “His support has been unwavering. Bobby and I are so lucky to have him.”
When Bobby grows older and begins to notice the scar on his chest — the one that sets him apart — his father will be able to show him something powerful. A mirror. A matching mark. A reminder that strength can be shared.

Congenital heart disease affects up to nine in every 1,000 babies born in the UK, making it one of the most common birth defects. Yet for many families, the diagnosis still comes as a devastating shock. Richard and Natasha now want to change that — by raising awareness, by fundraising, and by helping other families who find themselves facing the same fear.
They are currently raising money for organisations including Ronald McDonald House, Little Hearts Matter, and Bristol Children’s Hospital, hoping to ease the burden for parents walking a road they now know all too well.
For Richard, the tattoo is permanent — but so is the promise behind it.
One day, when Bobby is old enough to understand, he will know this: his scar is not a symbol of something missing. It is proof of love, survival, and a father who chose to carry his son’s pain so his child would never feel alone.




