Recollections of Dread and Deliverance Dearest, when you haemorrhaged (I am of a sudden with hurt and horror recalling it these near-three decades on),   when back in the ward after the birthing the nurse drew down from your white face the bedcover to uncover that swamp   of blood from your wounded womb, that crimson saturation of nightdress and sheet, I plunged to pleas and please!   and when they wheeled you on the trolley away to the theatre, not now for new life but for your life, I feared you’d gone for good   but by the doctor’s…