I can see it now — me and Dr. Mindy Lahiri, alone in an exam room, chatting about pregnancy and all the terrible foods I’ve been craving. We’ll work in some witty banter, a few Meg Ryan references; she’ll probably compliment my shoes, lipstick, or vagina. And then later that night, she’ll shoot me a text. She’ll ask how I’m feeling, and then tell me about a crazy good sale on designer maternity jeans. I’ll send her some heart emojis back. Because if Mindy Lahiri was my OB-GYN, not just a fictional doctor on The Mindy Project, she’d be more than just my doctor — she’d be my best friend (which, she would point out, is not a person, but a tier.)
Okay so maybe she’d have one too many drinks and flake on delivering my baby. Maybe she’d be chronically late for our appointments (always with an interesting excuse), and openly give really bad financial advice. And sure she might gab about the embarrassing story I told her, but c’mon, she’s only human. Having someone like Mindy Lahiri as my OB-GYN — unapologetically rad and funny, with enough personality for an entire staff of doctors — would probably mean both the best and worst birth experience ever.