I ran across this article the other day on MSNBC.com: A Few Drinks During Pregnancy May Be OK?
I’m not sure why the editors added the question mark, as there didn’t seem to be much uncertainty in the information; the article reported on the results of a British medical study of 11,000+ babies that showed light alcohol consumption during pregnancy had zero adverse effect on the babies. Here’s the bottom line:
“The findings of this paper and our previous work suggest that, up to the age of 5 years, there is no increased risk of poor socioemotional or cognitive developmental outcomes in children born to mothers who drank not more than 1 or 2 units of alcohol per week during pregnancy,” said the authors, who were led by Yvonne Kelly of the department of epidemiology and public health at University College London.
Finally, my friends can stop lying. (You know who you are.)
I admit it. I enjoyed a few glasses of wine while pregnant. Not every night and not more than a glass (maybe a glass and a half if my husband was pouring). And for some reason, I always went for red. Maybe it was because the flavors were more intense, so I felt like I was getting more bang for the ballon.
For me, those glasses were heaven. They were the perfect punctuation to a long day of work or the best side dish to a really nice dinner. Because my consumption was limited, I savored every small sip, never appreciating the goodness of wine as much as then. Taking the time to really enjoy every swallow totally helped me slow my mind and body down and, as anyone close to me during my pregnancy can attest, I definitely needed to unwind occasionally.
Most of the time I never really felt guilty about enjoying the odd glass of vino. I’d gotten the blessing from several medical professionals who basically said as long as I felt good, there wasn’t a big issue with a few bouche-fulls of Burgundy or Bordeaux from time to time. So, whether I was in the privacy of my own home or out for a nice dinner with my husband or clients, I wouldn’t hesitate to have a little splash poured into my glass.
But it’s funny how my attitude changed once I got bigger. I felt perfectly comfortable having a glass of my favorite Pinot Noir when I looked like I just couldn’t keep my hand out of the cookie jar. But once I had a full fledged basketball for a belly, I felt very self-conscious, like people, from the waitress to my mother, were judging me, labeling me a bad mom before I officially became one. The irony of course being that at the end of the pregnancy, baby’s mostly just packing on pounds and exercising his systems for life outside the womb, so there’s not too much you can screw up developmentally at that point.
So, after reading this piece and wishing I could have carried around a copy in my purse when I was preggers to counter any sly looks or snide remarks (real or imagined), I say cheers to all mommies-to-be. You’ve got a lot to celebrate, so don’t beat yourself up over a couple sips of Shiraz.