Interesting Tidbit: Good Ol’ Fashioned Whoopie!

Let’s rewind the clocks a bit… this IT was found while searching my trusty resource, Google, for some tips to induce labor. What I found was that two, would be needed for this tango. That’s right, SEX, what gets the baby in, gets the baby out! Skeptical? Don’t be. It worked for me (at least that’s what I think happened).

If you’ve been following my blog, you already know that Beckett was happy to stay inside my uterus forever. So, literally, on my due date I made my husband screw me. LOL! I just threw up in my mouth a little. The things he does for me… seriously, 40 weeks pregnant, 170 pounds, swollen in all the wrong places, tired, gassy, cranky, uncomfortable (just to name a few), not the best partner for a mind-blowing experience, but he worked it out. The result: two days later, a baby boy. Call it what you will, I call it my labor-inducing remedy.

Here’s the proof… Semen contains prostaglandins, the hormone-like substances that soften your cervix in preparation for labor. So, have some fun and fire away.


They Don’t Call it Labor for Nothing!


Beckett Michael Sherrill was born on Wednesday, May 2nd at 10:06pm, a healthy weight of 8lbs 11oz and 20″ long. My husband and I can not be more proud of what we’ve created and are basking in all the glorious things parenting has to offer.

It started like this…


12:00pm: My mother arrives into town, scheduled, for the day after my due date, May 1st. When I pick her up from the airport we have a good laugh about how my baby boy is not here yet, and that my doctor jokingly told me the week before that my cervix had only began to dimple and the baby’s head was only slightly further down the birth canal from the previous week. He mentioned something about mid-May that I tried to ignore, and that was that! This baby was taking his sweet time. I brought mom home to get settled in.

3:00pm: We decide to head up to our local Burger Lounge for an early dinner, and as we’re finishing up I head to the restroom to relieve myself. OMG!! I lost my mucous plug!! I run out to share the news with my mom who was super excited (lol). We hurry home to do some research. Turns out my elation could be premature, the mucous plug can come out anywhere from two days to two weeks before birth. I try not to be discouraged, after all something was happening!

5:00pm: My mom and I head out for a walk with my boys, Brody and Tate. This is something I have grown really fond of, enjoying time outside with my pups, in one of the most beautiful neighborhoods in San Diego. It is really amazing how much you can appreciate the little things in life when you are forced to slow down. We walk, walk, walk hoping for headway.

11:00pm: CONTRACTIONS!! “Yooooooooow, Kelly Clarkson!” I quickly check the clock over the next few hours, contractions are around twenty minutes apart. I think labor is happening…


2:00am: I move myself into the living room as contractions are getting closer together, no need for my husband to suffer a horrible night’s sleep, I need him on his A-GAME today. I fumble around on my iPhone until I find a suitable app to manage my progress, I use Contraction Master.

7:00am: My husband wakes up and I update him on the situation. “We’re gonna have a baby and it’s going to happen soon!“My mom wakes up and she’s excited to hear that things are moving along. Panic sets in for my husband who quickly downs a cup of joe and starts getting things together for our hospital stay. My bag is packed and there is a checklist taped to the door. Contractions are approximately seven minutes apart, I shower and struggle to put myself together.

9:00am: We are packed and ready to go. My contractions are still all over the board. One seven minutes, then four, then three, then seven, then five… they are averaging five minutes apart though, so I call triage at Mary Birch Hospital for Women. The nurse I speak to on the phone suggests I stay home for a couple more hours and see if my contractions get more consistent. I’m stressed out (to say the least), in pain and sleep deprived. This was not the answer I had hoped for.

9:15am: Against the nurses advisory, we are heading to the hospital. I was prepared to be sent home if I was being too cautious, but piece of mind is what I needed right now. What I failed to mention to the nurse, was that I was concerned about how much fluid I was losing, clear-ish, stained pink. Hours earlier I had read in What to Expect that you can experience what they call a bloody show and that this was normal. What was described in the book looked like what I saw in my soaked maxi pad, so I guessed everything was par for course.

9:30am: We check into triage and low and behold that fluid I was losing was my water bag that had broken. The nurse described to me that the situation was likely that my bag had broken high in my stomach (instead of low, where it would have gushed out) and that essentially, my water was only spilling over every time I had a tough contraction. NEVER EVER doubt your intuition, you know your body and you’re probably right! Go to the hospital when you’re ready!

11:30am: Matt and I are checked into our labor room and I receive my epidural within the hour. Life is good better!

1:00pm(ish): A handful of nurses rush into the room, without explanation I am spread open, my doppler heart rate monitor that was placed across my abdomen is replaced by an internal heart rate monitor that is inserted and placed on the top of my baby’s head (yes, while still in my womb). I look to Matt to explain what is happening in my haze of drugs and delirium. Searching his face provides no answers, it shows only the same worry and fright that I am feeling, tears stream down my face. Something is wrong. Bradycardia, my baby’s heart rate dropped below the acceptable range of 110-160 bpm and something was depriving him of oxygen. As the nurses hustle around and get things under control, in what seemed like the longest three or so minutes of my life, they explain to me what they believe to be happening was that his umbilical cord was either knotted, wrapped around his neck or he was simply laying on it when I turned to my left side.

2:00pm: My cervix is dilated to 5cm and completely thinned out.

3:00pm+: The next several hours pass by slowly, we wait for progress. Several different levels of Pitocin are administered to help dilate my cervix. I try without success to turn once more to my left side and we experience the same bradycardia as before, cementing in the fact that I can not move off my sore right side. For nearly seven hours we wait, and nothing good is happening. In the end, I dilate to 6.5cm before my cervix begins to swell, closing my cervix slightly. There are no guarantees in childbirth and any expectations you may have, you better be willing to throw out the window for the health and safety of your baby and yourself. Birth plan or no plan, your way will be mapped out as you travel it.

9:15pm: Twenty three hours in labor and the doctor informs me that it’s time for a Cesarian Section. I had to know it was coming, I knew the (lack of) progress as the day wore on. Exhausted, sleep-deprived and uncomfortable, I break down, defeated. Tears fly out of me with wild abandon. Matt tries to console me and tell me I will be fine. I know that these surgeries happen all the time, but logic was not something I could find in this situation. I sign the documents.

9:30pm: I am prepped, drugged and ready for surgery. This is truly all a blur and seemed to happen in an instant. I am afraid, shaking, unsure of how this will pan out. There is a sheet literally two inches from my nose and my husband sits beside me. They call for the incision. I do not feel pain. What happens next can only be described as someone wrestling an alligator out of my stomach, tugging, pulling, resistance, so much pressure, SO MUCH PRESSURE you can’t breathe, and then, release. Twenty or so minutes and my baby is brought into the world.

10:06pm: My son is pulled from my abdomen and we wait, wait to hear his cry, wait to know that he is breathing… we wait thirty to forty seconds, and there it is, the sweet sound of success. I will survive this, and so will my son. Happy Birthday Beckett!