God, the audience where I was were (to a man and woman) groaning at the crowning bit. I wasn't exactly whooping myself (although reflecting on the American shaving thang).
I did chortle privately at the whole "find your gynaecologist" bit (wouldn't it be an obstetrician? Who the heck knows when in the UK you're meant to just give birth in front of whichever random stranger has a few moments to attend you).
It did seem like a film written by a man, to me. The male characters were more sympathetic than the female characters. (Indeed, the writer/director is the husband of the actress who played Debbie, and her kids in the film are actually their kids).