Drinking Advice Has to Add Up

By Judy Vickers

I T was last week’s Evening News article on Foetal Alcohol Syndrome which did it, or in particular the contrasting pictures of the firm walnut-like brain of a normal baby and the crumbling cookie mush of the one whose mother had been drinking.

Within minutes I’d completed a deeply unscientific survey of all the parents in the office on who’d drunk what during their pregnancy, while taking surreptitious glances at the framed pictures on their desk for any obvious abnormalities in their offspring.

Abstinence for the whole nine months, for the first three months, a couple of glasses of wine a week, a couple of glasses on a special occasion, no spirits, Guinness only (it’s good for you) – not one person had adhered to the same rules.

By the end of the day I’d become a paranoid teetotal, although I’d never been more in need of a drink in my life.

Of course at the six-month stage in my pregnancy it’s probably too late to be paranoid. I’ve already been panic-stricken at drinking like a fish during the first three weeks as I had no idea I could be up the duff, followed by being penitential on mineral water for several weeks. But once I’d got my Ready, Steady, Baby book, issued to all expectant mothers by the NHS, and listened to the advice of my laid-back doctor, which was to avoid scuba diving but not worry too much about anything else, I relaxed a little.

Official NHS advice at the moment is one or two units once or twice a week, although nothing is best. So I stuck to two units a week. But then you start reading the pregnancy books and everyone has a different story – even among official bodies. The Royal College of Obstetricians and Gynaecologists is the same as the NHS – which means anything between nothing and 160 glasses of wine over the course of your pregnancy is OK. And that’s quite a difference. Whereas the National Institute for Clinical Excellence recommends a maximum of one unit a day, a total of 280 glasses over 40 weeks of pregnancy.

The NHS here is about to change its advice to a maximum of one or two units on occasion which is suitably vague, whereas the health service is England is going to make it a straight nothing, which at least is simple. However, that new advice only comes in next year, so presumably it’s OK to keep drinking two units a week until then.

My friend in Germany, who has two completely normal children and cheerfully knocked back a glass of wine a night during both her pregnancies, finds the whole thing hysterical. However, she lives on the Continent where they eat Parma ham and take other such reckless risks with their unborn baby’s health.

I, however, am far more responsible. No alcohol for me from now until the birth, except for my birthday, when I’m going to allow myself a glass or two of wine. But just to make sure staff and other diners don’t think I’m a Bad Mother, I might phone ahead and make sure I can sit where no-one can see me.

Now on to the next chapter in my pregnancy book; the dangers of stress for mothers-to-be.

(c) 2007 Evening News; Edinburgh (UK). Provided by ProQuest Information and Learning. All rights Reserved.