I told DP but then felt like it was a mistake because he got SO excited and wanted to rush off the island immediately. Instead, we sat and watched a show on netflix and just kept an eye in my contractions.
The next morning I wasn't really contracting so we just went about business as usual. Then, about 9am, I felt a bigger gush and when I checked, saw a bunch of pinkish, watery fluid. This time I was sure that had to be amniotic fluid. So we called the drs office and took the 10:20 ferry to get to the hospital by 11.
When we arrived, still no "real" contractions, the dr tested my fluids on a strip and could not detect amniotic fluid. No ferning under the microscope, either. She thought it was probably not ruptured membranes, but wanted to do a US just to check levels. Fluid levels were very low, so she began to suspect that maybe I did have a small membrane year, but that for some reason she wasn't picking it up.
Either way, she recommended we spend the night at the hospital and recheck in the morning. DP and I went for a couple of nice walks around the hospital campus, and it definitely increased my contracting, though I still didn't have any that really meant business.
Around 6pm in our hospital room I stood up to a big gush that left no doubt. Contractions began picking up about 6:30-7, and by 9 they were consistent and very uncomfortable. I labored in the big jacuzzi tub for a while, and it felt great. By 10:30 I was having a hard time staying quiet and collected during contractions. When the nurse checked me, I was only about 4 cm dilated, which was discouraging. An hour later, at 11:30, I was a raging animal, yelling through the contractions, and feeling like I wasn't going to survive. Around midnight I measured 8 cm. I was feeling the urge to push, and it was nearly impossible to control it. A few contractions later and the doctor could only detect a lip if cervix. It seemed like forever, but she managed to help me get that out of the way and I was able to really give in to pushing.
Pushing was the longest 10-15 minutes I can remember. I was laying in my side, holding my legs and curling into the contractions. I think a more upright position might have made a difference, because it was more difficult than I remembered my others being- I really doubted my ability to get him out at a couple of points. But out he came, indeed, at 12:28.
He was my second smallest baby, at 8lbs 6oz, and 19" long. Beautiful little guy, with not too much molding and only a little bruising. I'm so in love.