I absolutely love my Ob-Gyn. Can't remember when I started seeing her or who recommended her. I do remember early on asking her about the movie poster she has in her office. It's a huge picture of a baby's face peeking through, her bright blue eye looking straight at you.
I asked her if she appeared in that film.
"Yes," she said. "Unfortunately they edited out most of what I said."
"Who cares?" I told her. "What matters is the credit."
"Actually, it was very important information that needs to be spread."
The movie was "The Business of Being Born," and I didn't think much about it until last year, when I went to see her because I'd become pregnant.
"You have to think where you want the baby to be born," she said.
I thought women just walked into a hospital at the signs of labor.
"And you need to choose a doctor or midwife."
I panicked a little. "Can't it be you?"
She said she doesn't do it anymore. She said I might consider having the baby at home.
Wait, what? That sounded so unsafe. The neighbors would throw me out.
"It's not like in the movies. It's not like you'll be screaming for hours," she said. "People even leave cookies and cards at the door when they know someone is having a home birth."