I still remember my in-laws politely asking me what a "midwife" was. I think they were worried I'd be giving birth in a barn. Honestly, even my husband was hesitant about me having a midwife instead of an OB/GYN. Thankfully, midwifery is becoming a more commonly accepted part of the pregnancy vernacular (even if no one can pronounce it correctly). Midwives have been around since time immemorial, but it's only recently that women are starting to rediscover them. Midwives are wonderful humans, and there were so many times I wanted to hug my midwife more than was probably (read: definitely) socially acceptable.
My insurance plan recommended that women who were not high-risk have their pregnancies and births attended by a team of certified nurse midwives. (An obstetrician was on call for emergencies and was always a choice for me, but that was before the AHCA.) I wasn't guaranteed to see the same midwife every time, but I was fine with that. During my prenatal visits, I met just about every midwife, which meant that whoever was on call when I went into labor would be someone I knew.
My partner, the skeptic, is now the world's biggest champion of midwives. He loved that they were all experienced mothers themselves, and felt comfortable once he understood that midwifery is, in fact, a medical profession. I loved that my midwives always had time to spend with me to answer all my questions. During labor and delivery, they were my greatest cheerleaders. That relationship, for me, was so very personal, and I'm beyond grateful to the amazing women who helped me through the toughest and most miraculous time of my life.