Most questions land in one of these five buckets.
A friendly betting pool for the people in a baby’s life. The host (often Mom) sets up categories like gender, weight, time of day. You pick what you think will happen, stake some money, and pay the host. When the baby arrives, the host marks the results and pays out the winners.
Hosts do — you need to sign in so we can keep track of your pools. Guests don’t. If a friend sent you a join code, you type your name and you’re in.
The host. Bettors pay the host directly (Venmo, Cash App, Zelle, cash, whatever you’ve worked out), the host holds the pot, and the host pays winners after settlement. We don’t see, hold, or move money. We’re a tracking tool.
The rake is a small cut off the top of the pot that goes straight to Mom. She’s the one doing the work — labor, in the most literal sense — and a small cut is the pool’s thank-you. Most pools run 5–10%. The host can also set it to 0% if Mom waves it off.
We don’t take a cut, ever. Every dollar of rake is Mom’s, not ours.
The host holds the pot the entire time, and we surface a clear list of payouts owed after settlement, with one-tap deeplinks. The same trust that any office pool runs on applies here — pick your hosts accordingly. PushPool isn’t an escrow service.
A blend of the host’s prior guess and the crowd’s actual betting pattern. Early on, the host’s estimates dominate; as more bets land, the crowd’s signal pulls the odds toward where the money is.
Your potential payout is your stake divided by the chance your pick hits, minus Mom’s rake. Long-shots pay big, favorites pay small — same as any pool. For the full math with a worked example, see how it works.
Picking more than one category at once — say, “girl AND over 8 lbs.” All your picks have to hit for the parlay to pay, but the payout is much bigger than betting them individually. Optional and totally fine to ignore.
Optional: the host can call which outcome they think the kid will land on for each market — gender, weight, hair color, etc. We render their picks with a small heart badge next to the outcome. It anchors the conversation (“you really think it’ll be a 9-pounder, dad?”) without changing any odds.
The host sets a close window — usually a few weeks before the due date so late-pregnancy ultrasounds don’t give nearby family unfair info. After close, the odds freeze and no new bets land.
Winnings scale down to fit the pot. If three people bet $5 on a 50:1 longshot and it hits, the math says “$750 each” — but the pot only has $200 in it. So everyone gets a proportional slice of what’s actually there. The host never owes anyone out of pocket.
The pool stays open. The host can drop in photos of the kid above the leaderboard, and reactions, comments, and the share card all keep working. Most family pools die at settlement; this gives the pool an afterlife.
Yes. If you haven’t paid yet, cancel from your bet page — that’s it. If you’ve already paid, request a refund and the host will send the money back, then mark it refunded.
They can fix it. Settlement isn’t a one-way door — if the recorded weight was off by a digit, the host edits the result and the payouts update.
Still have a question? Ask the host of your pool — they know your group, the rake, and the close window.
