OB is a place where you can walk in and be a hero. You take someone and are a part of their beautiful moment. They stop you in the supermarket and say thanks, showing off their now 3 year old kid. Your wife tells you her friends thought you were awesome. Quite literally, the only thank you cards I have ever received have been from OB moms, and there are many of those every year.
Somehow that trauma you gave 50+ units of blood to, or heart case you turned around never thought to give you a thanks, or even knew you existed.
It is the most memorable thing we do for people, despite an epidural being super simple. You take a screaming rabid monster, and turn them into a happy mom to be.
Of course, the downside is when it isn’t perfect, and your wife’s friends mutter about you behind her back. Or when you rush back to a prolapsed cord section at 3 am and all they remember is how you were that asshat that wouldn’t let their husband, mother, grandmother and neighbor go back and watch.
On the whole, I also like OB, but my little basket of horrible OB memories isnt full yet. I would actually be reasonably happy there all day for years if I could transplant a brain into every OB nurse.