Chapter 8

After his last parting from Gwen, the full anguish of loss had not reached him. He felt numb, but also a drive to sort everything out. He had to tell both sets of parents, then the wider family and then their friends. He had to arrange the funeral. Suddenly he realised they had never discussed what would happen if one of them died. Cremation or burial?

It did not seem odd to him to be considering the matter, and he soon realised he could not face the idea of having her cremated. So it would have to be burial. He would get a family grave that would hold four or five. Yes, that would be good. Then when his turn came he could join her.

In later times he could remember little of the next few weeks. Life was very busy and initially his emotions were numbed by the need to get things done. Those around him at the time filled in the gaps in his memory, and there were plenty of folk around him.

Beth was taken care of in the hospital for the next two days, though he insisted on going in to feed and change her when he could.

He remembered with absolute clarity his phone call to Gwen’s parents, and to his own.

“Hello,” said her mother on answering.

“It’s David.” His voice was toneless and conveyed trouble.

“Dafydd, bach,” she said, now worried, “what’s the matter, she’s not lost the baby?”

“Mam,” he said, using his word, the Welsh word, for her, “The baby is fine. It’s Gwen.”

“What’s wrong with her?” she said, her voice full of dread.

“She collapsed after the birth, Mam,” he said. “I’m so sorry. There was nothing they could do to save her.”

“Da Duw yn y nefoedd (Good God in heaven)!” she cried. “You’re saying...”

“She’s gone, Mam. She’s left us.”

There was a cry, and a muffled exchange before Gwen’s father came on the line.

I’m so sorry boy,” he said, his voice taut with emotion. “How did it happen?”

“She gave birth no problem,” he answered, trying to remember each detail. “They put little Bethan on her tummy and Gwen smiled at her and said, ‘Isn’t she beautiful?’ Then she looked worried and said she felt strange and closed her eyes. The nurse pressed the emergency button and the team arrived. I had to leave with Bethan. I heard them say she’d arrested before the door closed. Half an hour later, the doctor came through and said they’d lost her.”

“So she didn’t suffer?”

“No, Da, she didn’t suffer at all.”

“And her last thought was happiness at Bethan being there?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” he said, which David remembered thinking strange at the time, but later realised his meaning. Gwen did not suffer, and her last feeling was of happiness.

“Mam says we’re on our way,” his father-in-law told him, “Be with you tomorrow. We’ll tell the rest of the family.”

He phoned his own folks and got the same response. Then Alex, who was devastated, but promised to tell all their friends.

“Alex,” cautioned David, “Please tell them not to phone me; I’ve got a lot to do.”

Alex concurred and rang off.

The house was full from the second day, and David was supported in all the tasks a bereaved partner has to perform. Gwen’s mother and his own looked after the baby, but once again David wanted to feed and change her himself when he could.

The autopsy revealed Gwen had suffered a catastrophic Amniotic Fluid embolism, causing lung and heart failure. It was a rare occurrence, the doctor explained, and virtually untreatable. Somehow debris from the amniotic fluid found its way into her bloodstream and reached the lungs and heart causing an allergic reaction.

There was an undertaker to choose, the death certificate to get from the register office, and the funeral to organise. He remembered later that Siân, Gwen’s sister, more or less did all that herself; she went with him to the register office and she knew what readings and hymns Gwen had liked. Alex phoned to say he’d found a Welsh Methodist chapel in the town, and the minister was helpful in the extreme. The local cemetery had room for a family grave,

The funeral was turns harrowing and joyful. The chapel was packed to the doors. Alex had organised friends to play for the service, and with Siân he organised readers. He gave the eulogy himself, and did it with delicacy and some humour, talking about her life from early childhood to the day she died.

David himself, his brother and Gwen’s brother along with Alex and two other friends carried the coffin from the hearse to the grave and after prayers they lowered her to her final resting place. David threw a single red rose onto the coffin.

There was a buffet lunch at a local hotel, and most of the local congregation arrived to talk to David and the family. He was kept busy all the time, and had no time to think about what had happened. He had not shed a tear since Gwen had died, holding himself in check for the sake of the family, and in any case his emotions seemed in limbo.

Before he left the lunch, the Chairman of the Board of Directors, who had come for the funeral, told him to take three months’ leave with full pay, telling him that his was an unusual case, since he had a new-born baby as well as a toddler to care for.

David’s mother had stayed at home with Evan and Bethan, and they joined the crowd at the hotel. There had been much discussion about whether to take Evan, but the consensus was that he would not understand and was better at home.