IMR: Entries: 2002: May: 21 — Tuesday, May 21, 2002

Hurry Up and Wait Ah, the power of wishful thinking. We were at the Emergency Room at 3 a.m. this morning, wondering if it was already time to meet our son.   The first HawaiiStories picnic at Magic Island. Stella (Dangerous Days) and Steve (Linkmeister). Lisa (Windward Skies) and her beau Vincent. Lisa and Katie get along smashingly. Katie can't get enough of the tent box. A hui hou — until we meet again! The fifth-annual "Kanikapila" at Kaimuki High School. Today, "kanikapila" means to gather to make music — in short, jam. What Polynesian music fest is complete without Tahitian dancers? An a capella trio (the star, center, battling voice changes). Two Kaimuki High School seniors sing their last duet. The `ukulele class was the heart of the entire show. `Ukulele master Jake Shimabukuro puts in an appearance. It's beyond incredible what he can do with a `uke. He finally has a solo album due out in the fall. It'll sell. A ballet class (ages 5 and 6) melts the audience's hearts. Jen had actually been experiencing contractions — varying in intensity and for only a few hours at a time, but always in regular intervals of 20-30 minutes — since soon after I returned home from Malaysia. Since they would come and go, and weren't overwhelmingly painful, we figured they were just Braxton-Hicks contractions. Practice. Biological foreshadowing. But yesterday, Sunday, while at mom's in Mililani, they seemed to be sharper, more intense. Jen swore she was even feeling a little dizzy. We started tracking contractions on scraps of paper, and throughout the day, they came anywhere between 15-20 minutes apart — generally closer than they'd been before. After we got home, we remained vigilant, timing the contractions late into the night. And at around 2 a.m., she nudged me awake, apologetically, saying the contractions really hurt, and suggested that we might go to the doctor just in case. Learning my lesson from Katie's arrival (when I doubted Jen's instincts and told her to go back to sleep), I quickly got up, dressed a nearly unconscious Katie, and led the groggy family down to the van. We drove to the Kapi`olani Medical Center emergency room, happily less than a quarter-mile away. Jen was quickly taken in and up to the birthing center, and in no time she was strapped to monitors. As Katie announced to everyone she met that "it's time to meet my baby brother," we listened to his galloping, whooshing heartbeat. The nurse was clearly doubtful, but still wonderfully patient and understanding. She checked Jen and found she was one centimeter dilated — significant, perhaps, except that Jen was at one centimeter at her weekly checkup last Wednesday. After taking her temperature, blood pressure, and family history, she stepped out to call Jen's OB/GYN, Dr. Simon Chang. While we were waiting, I took Katie down the hall to look at the newborns. She asked if each one was her baby brother, and I had to explain several times that he hadn't arrived yet. "Oooh," she sighed, clearly disappointed. Eventually, the verdict came back: false alarm. We were politely sent home with a little brochure that explained how to know if you're really in labor. Jen was embarassed, and worried that when the time really came, the hospital wouldn't believe her. (They took some convincing with Katie, too.) I told her not to worry... but I also prepared myself in case I needed to be a bit more persuasive next time. If our son had come today, he would have been eleven days early (and a Taurus instead of a Gemini — yipes). Not unheard of, right? I guess since Jen and I have just been so eager to meet him, and because I have maintained since the beginning (against all medical knowledge and reason) that the official due date of June 1 is too late, our collective hopes were putting Jen's system into overdrive. Indeed, no sooner did we get home and back to sleep, resigned to the fact that this pregnancy has at least a good week left to go, did the contractions subside. She's had fewer than a dozen all day. I don't give up easy, though. I'm still spending every waking moment figuring I'm about to get The Call (even my coworkers jump when my cell phone rings), and maintaining that level of readiness is exhausting. And I know it's only when I finally succumb, and dare to relax or fall into a deep sleep, that the adventure will finally begin. Man. Why do I have a knack for knowing when other couples' sons make their debut, but not my own? (Congrats, Amy and Scott!) Or maybe I need to pick a date? My guess back in January would've been this Thursday, if not earlier. But I'll play it safe and give the nurses and doctors some credit. Let's try Wednesday, May 29, at 4:50 p.m. C'mon, baby. Our baby, my son, Katie's little brother. We're calling him many things, but we still don't know his name. In fact, the name question has actually gotten more complicated since the day not so long ago when we simply couldn't decide on sticking with Iain — our first choice since 1997 — or Zachary, our compromise to please a diverse coalition of Iain detractors. Jen has since come up with at least three more alternatives: Aidan, Kieran, and Dylan. Much to my chagrin, I suspect Nicholas is also moving into contention. (It's her prerogative, of course. In the aftermath of The Contract and my somewhat passionate opinions about girls' names, it was agreed she could name all boys.) Iain has many fans, and I dare say today, holds the majority. Zachary's support has wavered, and that's what probably opened the door to the new challengers. But an informal poll has found people have mixed, generally negative experiences with people named Aidan. Kieran would be unique, and could be shortened to Kerry (like Katie for Katherine), but most folks hear it and think about Kirin. And Dylan I'm just not nuts about, although its spelling is preferrable to Dillon. (Don't even get me started on Nicholas.) If anything, I think we've decided to not decide until we've gotten our first good look at him. We'll know then, the reasoning goes, whether Iain or Zachary or Moon Unit fits. So long as we don't leave the hospital with a "John Doe Ozawa" birth certificate, I think, I'll be happy. Please, though, not Nicholas. I've been home for well over a week, but I don't think I felt I was home until Saturday. We started with the New Baby Expo at Blaisdell Center. We went together with our neighbors Nicole and Martin and their daughter Celeste, arriving just moments after the doors were thrown open. Unlike the flea-market of hucksters that have overrun the New Products Show, almost all of the vendors out on Saturday were specifically catering to the expecting and new-parent crowd. Sure, you had Kirby and their overpriced vacuums and a couple of "subluxation" chiropractic outfits, but mostly it was all about babies. Designer strollers, handmade slings, basic furniture, soy and wheat milk, minivans, "baby luau" caterers, doulas and au pairs and midwives and more. Of course there were gobs of givaways, and heaps of drawings for car seats and cruises. And everywhere, there were strollers and giant, bulging bellies. It was, honestly, great to be surrounded by people — both vendors and shoppers — totally obsessed with babies. If I wasn't in the new-daddy groove when I got off the plane, I was definitely back on track as of that morning. It wasn't long before the refreshingly wide aisles were nonetheless clogged with strollers, and we'd seen pretty much everything we wanted to see. (We also bought nothing except a small box of "Pregnancy Tea" from Down to Earth.) Just as the noon crowd was flooding in, we slipped out and returned home. Of course, twenty minutes later we headed out again, this time to Magic Island. It was time for the first "IRL" (in real life) gathering of HawaiiStories members. Some local bloggers and I started HawaiiStories at the end of March, which I built during pre-travel bouts of insomnia. Conceived as a talkstory spot and weblog host, it wasn't long before the idea of a meatspace shindig surfaced. We'd picked the date over a month ago, but — like most things planned in Internet time — it was upon us sooner than we'd expected. I had scrambled during the week prior to pick up supplies, including a tent and a little sign so we could find each other. Lisa and her recently relocated beau Vince were already there, and they helped me stake out a spot and figure out the tent. Soon after, Steve (a.k.a. Linkmeister) arrived, followed by Stella. We just sat and talked and snacked, enjoying the beautiful day and warm company. Katie quickly adopted Lisa as her best friend, and otherwise devoted her attention to charming everyone. Vince wandered off for a bit to watch some surfers surf (he said he'd never seen "real" surfers before), and the girls too took a leisurely stroll around the park. It was a simple, relaxing, beautiful sunny afternoon... the essence of Hawai`i, and exactly what I needed. I think everyone else enjoyed themselves as well — they certainly seemed open to the likelihood of another gathering in the near future. After the members of the HawaiiStories `ohana headed their separate ways, it was time for Jen, Katie and I met up with mom for our third special engagement: the annual Kanikapila concert at Kaimuki High School. The concert was basically a recital for all the different music and dance programs at KHS, anchored by the `ukulele class. In addition to traditional music and dance — Hawaiian, Samoan, Tahitian, and the like — there was a lot of contemporary stuff too. A doo-wop number, soloists singing modern pop, something resembling jazz, ballet, and much more. Some hits, some misses, but all entertaining, and Katie certainly got a kick out of it. The show's weaknesses were basically the same as that of the first concert. One, the program was so jam packed with "Special Guest Artists" (from ballroom dancers to locally famous drummers and sax players) it both dragged on too long and somewhat diminished the accomplishments of the students. The sound and lighting was shaky to say the least (although the sound engineer did come onstage to sing a number with his wife). And the "Pachabel Canon in D for `Ukulele with Rap Track" might have almost been palatable had they not done exactly the same thing before. But, it was mostly smiles. Among the high points was a brief performance by `ukulele virtuoso Jake Shimabukuro, a KHS alum. To be honest, he was the reason we decided to attend in the first place. He could only play two numbers, as he had another engagement in town, but he still took everyone's breath away. The things he can do on that modest little instrument are so incredible, they barely seem physically possible. At times, his hands were a blur. And the whole time, he clearly felt what he was playing down to the very core. Although I know his upcoming solo album will be a hit, I couldn't help but lament how much of his talent radiates from his passionate live performances. There was also a surprisingly clever medley mixing Enya's "Only Time" with "Unchained Melody," and a somewhat random performance by a troupe of very small ballet dancers. Completely exhausted, we returned home, our heads still full of music and happy memories. It was a full day, but each part of it rejuvenated my soul. Suffice it to say, I think I'll finally be sleeping well again.

Comments Harumph. And just what's so "yipes"-y about being a Taurus, hmmmmmm?? —NemesisVex (May 21, 2002 4:54 AM) I can't imagine the frustration of false anticipation! Good luck! —Linkmeister (May 21, 2002 4:32 PM) No shame! You and Jen are wise for going in and at least checking--I have friends who named their little one "Justin Tyme" cause he was born in the ER (no time to get upstairs to the delivery room). Another couple had their little one on the way to the hospital and still another couple had an unplanned home delivery. All three (embarassed by a situation similar to yours) thought it was just a false alarm but the babies knew better! :-) God bless. —ali (May 22, 2002 9:31 AM) Well at least your kid won't be on the cusp and confused about his astrological sign throughout his whole life. It's a real flip of the coin when Taurus and Gemini have totally different predictions and you don't know which one to go with! —p. (May 22, 2002 9:43 AM) Hey Ryan! Thanks again for the picnic - fun times! Hope everything's fine with Jen and the boy - I don't know if I told this before, but my sister went through almost the same thing with her son (what is it about boys? heh) and we have pictures of her sitting toilet-style on a donut pillow just to demonstrate what was happening (she was also doing Bradley Method at that time); eventually he came out a full week before he was due. And if it's any indication (coming from a Taurus raised by two Air signs), Bull babies do have a tendency to be, well, bull-headed. ;) Either way, just hang in there... —Stella (May 22, 2002 10:55 AM) Ohhhh, I *like* Dylan. Dylan Ozawa. Nice strong name. I like it a lot. :) —Lani (May 27, 2002 8:58 PM) Okay, Ozawa, what's up with taking all of my kids names? First it's the homophone of my older son, now it's the middle and preferred name of my youngest? Geez. If you end up naming this baby Benjamin or Aaron, I'm flying to Honolulu to have words with you and your lovely wife. :-D —Dreama (May 28, 2002 7:30 AM) E kala mai! Comments have been disabled due to overwhelming abuse by spammers. Please click through to any of the video hosting services linked above to leave a public response, or feel free to send an e-mail. Mahalo! < May 09 · May · May 23 > © 1997-2008 Ryan Kawailani Ozawa · E-Mail: imr@lightfantastic.org · Created: 13 November 1997 · Last Modified: 14 January 2008