As of last night, I am an uncle no longer. Premmie lived for one week and died of complications.
I don't have any details and I'm not too sure that I want to know. Whilst in Victorian times, a lifespan of one week was not uncommon, it's unusual a century plus later. On the other hand, a 600 gram baby would have been left for dead immediately on birth, and it's doubtful whether the mother would have survived either.
To use a modern word, I am gutted - and I'm not even a blood relative. I hate to think what pain my brother in law and girlfriend must be suffering. It was I who advised them not to abort a few weeks earlier, and instead let nature take its course. Little did I know. As the girlfriend (soon to be wife, I hope) is approaching 40, her chances of a safe birth are decreasing daily, although she points out that their troubles began after the amniotic water test was performed.