Before

As part of the legnthy process of transforming my home office to play room, I'm working on getting rid of my old computer. The one run Mac OS 8.6. The one I haven't used in, oh, six years or so. It's been sitting there because I thought there might be stuff on there I wanted to keep, so tonight I plugged it back in and delved in. I pulled some old writing and a few random files. Then I found my email.

I didn't know how to copy it other than to save individual messages as text files. (I haven't tried opening them on my new computer, so hoping it worked.) I found the emails from when Brian and I first met and birthday plans with my friend K. and messages from fall 2006 through spring 2007 when I was announcing and discussing my new and drawing to a close pregnancy.

I was so damn cheerful, even in late spring when we knew about the heart. I was so hopeful and happy and naive, even as they changed the date of my c-section, even as we met with a cardiologist. I took things in stride better than I ever had in my life.

I found emails from two friends, due like I was in June, who had ultrasound scares. I had remembered one of them having an amnio after her ultrasound, but I had forgotten that the other had had any scare at all. Both of them had healthy babies.

I read emails that had nothing to do with babies and plans for my shower and advice about cloth diapers. I talked about prenatal yoga and feeling good and starting to show and feel movement. A friend's wedding, work issues, TV shows . . . all these bits of my life before.

I've read again the emails I got while Henry was in the hospital and those that came in after he died, but I hadn't looked at the time of hope and anticipation since that time. There is part of me that can't figure out how I was ever that person, but I'm glad I was. I'm glad I had that time of trusting and looking forward with excitement not trepidation.