Women's relationship with food is complex and explains a lot about pregnancy overeating

“Step on the scales,” ordered the midwife. What did I weigh? For once in my life, I didn’t actually care. I was pregnant, you see, and so all bets were off.

After years of weight-obsession in our teens and early adulthood, pregnancy comes to women as a glorious respite. Of course we can’t be expected to watch our figures while we’re growing another person inside! Of course we need not mind gaining weight at this time!

Except perhaps we should. Losing control of our eating during pregnancy puts our unborn children at risk of obesity, the first study of its kind has discovered. And the problem, it was found, is widespread: of the 11,000-odd British women whose data was examined by researchers at University College London, more than a third had felt unable to stop eating, even when they wanted to.

It’s not all that hard to see why. We live in a society where public debate around the female body drones on incessantly around us. Try as we might, we can seldom block it out. Not only do we find ourselves perpetually bombarded with images of idealised physiques, we also hear, on a loop, the insidious narrative that accompanies them. You know the one I mean:  it’s the one that whispers in our ears that our bums are too big, our thighs too fat, our stomach insufficiently flat, and so on. It's the one that keeps us trapped in an endless loop of seeking out physical perfection and ending up with an unhealthy dose of disappointment and self-loathing. According to one study kicking off Body Confidence Week in 2014, almost 10 million British women reported feeling depressed because of the way they looked. A quarter said they skipped meals to lose weight.

Then along comes pregnancy and it’s hard not feel a sweet sense of release. At last, for nine months, there is no need to punish ourselves for our failures to achieve perfect bodies; no need to strive for that washboard stomach any more. Not for now, anyway; not until we’ve reached the other side, whereupon, of course, we’ll succumb once again to the pressures to shape up.

For me, and by the sound of it plenty of others, the joyous tidings of pregnancy meant pudding o’clock. Having made peace with an existence that precluded alcohol, pate and mould-ripened soft cheese, in stepped carbs, cakes and chocolate to fill the vacancy. Not since childhood had I fretted so little about their impact. It never once occurred to me this might not be good for the child I was carrying. I was taking the “foods to avoid” page of the NHS website very seriously indeed; sugary treats were my self-administered reward.

In defence of all women in a similar position, it isn’t just gluttony that’s to blame here. It hardly needs pointing out that pregnancy is a tiring business - even more so when you’ve already got another child or children to look after. And what often happens when we’re tired? We overeat. Rarely are we bingeing on carrot sticks, either. Sometimes only the short-lived boost of a sugar rush will do.

I’m not one to bridle at being warned about health risks. I don’t mind being “lectured” about alcohol and pregnancy nor puff up, all offended, when scientists and doctors dole out useful advice. I like to think they know what they’re talking about; that there isn’t any judgement implied. To anyone who says they should just leave us be, to put our babies at risk as we wish, I say: grow up. There are better ways of showing your rebellious streak.

But with antenatal overeating, let’s understand the reasons as well as the effects. Women’s relationship with food is often complex. If we look through this lens at the pregnancy problem, it may help us out of this mess.