Long before I ever went into labor, I was positive one thing in my birth plan would happen definitely, for sure, without question, no matter what: no one was going to be in that room unless I really wanted them there. And everyone's access was subject to being revoked — everyone. My partner knew this, and luckily, was onboard. He knew I was well versed in the signs you'll end up kicking your partner out of the labor and delivery room, and I wouldn't hesitate to say the word if he showed any of them. He understood that since I was the one who had to fit a Crockpot through a bagel bite made of nerves, I was basically allowed to play dictator about anything else happening in the room where I was pulling that feat off. If him being in the hall was going to make the process of giving birth to our kid even marginally easier, who the hell was he to say no?
Which is ultimately how I felt about the decision of who got to be in the delivery room and who didn't. If a laboring mother wants someone in or wants someone out, what kind of intolerable nightmare of a human would dare place their feelings or ego above the needs of a person literally in labor? (Probably the same kind of asshole who doesn't deserve to witness the miracle of life, for what it's worth.)
And while I didn't end up kicking my partner out of the delivery room (likely because he was the kind of passive and supportive person who would've willingly and easily left if I had asked him to), he did end up being the only one allowed in. And looking back there were definitely times during my pregnancy when the potential for his ouster was super obvious. If any of these things are true for you, there's a reasonably good chance you might toss out your partner when it's Game Day: