LIFE’S A CLIMB
There ain’t no mountain high enough for Daniel Thomas, 37, from Holywell, Wales, and daredevil Albie!
Staring at the screen, my partner Rachel laid back on the couch. The sonographer ran the scanner over her tummy and a tiny image popped up on screen.
‘There’s your baby,’ the sonographer smiled at our 12-week scan.
Rachel, 32, and I were expecting our fourth child.
We already had Grace, now 12, Blake, 11 and Sienna, seven.
This child would complete our family.
But then the sonographer paused and looked more closely at the screen.
‘Your baby’s fibula is missing,’ the sonographer said, and Rachel and I looked at each other in shock.
We didn’t know what it meant, but they couldn’t tell us much more at that point.
Further scans followed, every fortnight.
‘It’s likely your baby has a condition called fibula hemimelia,’ a doctor told us. ‘But we won’t know for sure until he’s born.’
It was a birth defect where all or part of the fibula bone in the leg is missing.
It led to shorter limbs, foot and knee deformities and only affected one in 40,000 births. We went home in shock. We were worried the missing fibula could be linked with other conditions, but again, we wouldn’t know until our baby was born.
I looked at our other kids – all healthy. But I knew we would love this baby no matter what.
Our son arrived in December 2016, weighing 8lb 2oz. We named him Albie.
He was a gorgeous little boy, but as the scan had shown, he had one limb shorter than the other and a deformed foot.
Thankfully, there were no other problems at all.
Rachel fell in love with him the moment she held Albie – we both did.
‘He’ll be all right, won’t he?’ she asked.
‘He will be,’ I promised. And I meant it.
Albie would have every opportunity he wanted in life. That was my mission. We’d told Grace, Blake and Sienna about Albie’s condition while Rachel was still
We’d love him no matter what
pregnant, so it didn’t come as a shock to them.
They were so understanding, and like us, they fell in love with him straight away, too.
Doctors advised Albie could have one of two operations – pinning the leg to extend it, or to have his foot amputated and use a prosthetic leg.
The leg extension would involve lengthy operations.
But the other option meant losing his lower limb.
I went to the gym and knew a man there who was an amputee and a strongman.
One day I was training and saw him and realised – this man could do anything, amputee or not.
So could Albie.
So, at 15 months, Albie went in for his operation.
For two hours, surgeons operated. I paced the floor.
When he was back from theatre, I went to see him.
He was bandaged up and groggy. But when he opened his eyes and saw me, he smiled.
I looked in his eyes and gripped his hand.
I looked at his little leg, all bandaged, as I held him in my arms.
And something blurted from my lips before I’d had time to compute it.
‘I’m going to get you into the Paralympics,’ I promised him.
Two days after his operation,
Albie was allowed home. When he had his first bath after his cast was removed, he first realised his foot was gone.
He kept trying to grab it, and it broke my heart.
He was sore, but was soon given a prosthetic limb and learnt to walk on it.
He hobbled at first but quickly got the hang of it. Soon he was walking around like anyone else.
I quit my job as a joiner and began retraining at uni as a running coach and fitness expert. I learnt about health, about the body, muscles.
It was all for Albie.
In 2018, I did seven marathons in seven days. Albie ran the first mile of each, too.
When he was just two, we climbed Moel Famau – the highest hill in Flintshire, Wales. Albie had a blade for faster walking and running.
He went up the side of the hill with no problems at all. He was running ahead of me!
‘That was easy,’ he said when we got to the top.
Over the next couple of years, we ran marathons together, climbed hills and then last year, we scaled Mount Snowdon, too.
There were some easier options, or the hardest route – the Pyg track.
‘Let’s do the harder one,’ Albie said.
So, just after Storm Arwen, we scaled the 3,560ft peak of Snowdon.
We went through rain, hail and snow and did the whole thing in five hours, 23 minutes – beating the average adult.
‘I thought this was supposed to be a big mountain,’ he said with a grin.
The papers and TV ran stories about Albie, saying he was the youngest person to ever climb Snowdon.
His siblings were so proud seeing him on TV. ‘That’s our Albie!’ they cried. Now Albie is five and doing well at school.
Once, he asked if he could have two ‘real’ legs again.
‘Your leg is better than a real leg,’ I told him.
Kids can say mean things and call his leg ‘stupid’, but he brushes it off and concentrates on his training.
Running and hiking is our passion together.
Next, we plan to climb Ben Nevis – the highest mountain in Britain at 4,406 feet.
It will be our biggest challenge yet but I have absolutely no doubt that Albie can smash it.
Albie’s had so many wonderful things happen to him.
Now when I think back to that moment when Albie came out of theatre after his amputation, I can’t believe how far he has come.
Back then I felt all the guilt a parent can imagine, taking his foot from him.
But looking back now, I know that was the day we both truly began living.
Our Albie is already smashing records.
I know that one day I will be cheering at the side lines as he stands on a podium, winning a gold medal for Britain. I made my boy a promise. And I know together, we can make it come true.
Albie beat the average adult!
Visit: Gofundme – father and son’s walking challenge up Mount Snowdon