You're expecting WAY too much out of intimacies of Married-life Princess!
I'm Old-School,,born in the mid-50s, when not only were Men not expected to do dishes unless they were single, the only proper place for an expectant father was 'Pacing the floor & chain-smoking in the waiting-room' while his children were delivered.
And for 'Good' reason!
Or more archaically, getting drunk with his father in-law outside pretending to ignore the grunts & screams inside while his mother in-law & the midwives saw to the intimate details of things that understandably only Women would know how to empathize with.
Such abominations to the contrary didn't even 'Start' to become customary or acceptable much-less Expected until My generation came of age and started getting married & making babies!
I wasn't in the delivery-room when my first kid was born simply because it just wasn't allowed, but I Was for the next two,
during witch I was totally useless & completely out of place considering the utterly personal inside-out Female nature of everything going on.
So I can definitely say with some degree of qualification that there are definitely SOME things that Men were just NOT meant to see or participate in...
"Labor-room coaching" & participation is one thing, but the 'Delivery' room is completely different,,
It may'v become fashionable for men to accompany childbirths nowadays but that doesn't make it Natural!
In a progressive culture wherein Women typically insist that they're better or as well-off as single-parents it's incredible that they haven't started requiring a Battleaxe-butch-feminist to be posted at the door of Delivery rooms to actually keep men 'out' since realistically just by nature there is virtually nothing so exclusively & specifically Feministic as childbirth!
In other-words it's a "Woman Thing" and there really isn't any practical reason for you to even 'WANT' a man in there anymore than you'd care for your husband's assistance with the application of a frkn Tampon!
And for all the symbolism that Fathers cutting the umbilical-cord is worth,
you might as well just hand the Bill & a pair of scissors to the father out in the lobby, so he can decide whether to stab himself in the eye rather than step-foot in a delivery-room,
or snip-off a testicle as payment for the undignified privilege of getting called "Mr Sperm-donor" by the beneficiaries of anonymous child-support checks on birthdays & carefully negotiated holidays.