It Was Four Weeks After My Second Child Was Born That My Husband Made This Taboo Request. I Burst Into Tears… Every Woman Will Understand Why: STEPH DOUGLAS

Ironically, it’s not something people tend to speak or perhaps even think about –whether or not a woman has sex during pregnancy.

Despite the fact – in most cases – she has conceived through intercourse, a pregnant woman is somehow non-sexual. I wonder if this is because society can’t handle the idea of combining motherhood and sex.

As a mother of three, I was intrigued by the divided reaction when presenter Jamie Laing and his wife Sophie ­Habboo, who is seven months ­pregnant, dared to break the taboo on their ­podcast, Nearly Parents. Sophie ­admitted they hadn’t had sex in ‘so long’, while Jamie joked about the ‘logistics’ when she is heavily pregnant.

When I mentioned it to my friends, they fell into two opposing camps: ­pregnancy either made them rampant due to all those hormones or utterly repulsed by the very idea of intercourse.

‘Loved it!’ said one. ‘Had more sex when pregnant than any other time!’

‘Could not bear to be touched during pregnancy,’ said another.

As for me, I found my levels of desire not only fluctuated wildly during each trimester but also differed according to the ­pregnancy. During my first, as yet unimpeded by babies and ­toddlers around the house, our sex life continued pretty much as usual in the early stages – whereas by the third my libido had taken a back seat.

Interestingly, my husband Doug reels off a list of our encounters during my first pregnancy that, frankly, I’m not convinced I was there for. God love him, perhaps as we’ve now got two more ­children he’s held on to those memories of the way we were.

During the first pregnancy we’d not been married long and were still in those early flushes of a relationship – you know, when you’re excited to see them walk in the door, and the many barriers to sex that creep in later (too hungry/too full/too exhausted by the kids/too annoyed about the dishwasher stacking) haven’t kicked in yet. We were young, our bodies plump with collagen. Sigh.

Given that nothing had really changed for us at this point, we kind of carried on as we were. I think first time round I felt I had something to prove, too: ‘Hey, I might be about to become a mother but I’ve still got it’. That is until the latter stages, when I do remember the giant belly making it quite comical.

Fast forward to my third pregnancy and we’d been parents for seven years, married for nine. I certainly wasn’t worried about ‘proving’ anything. The opportunities to have sex once there are small people in the house are less frequent, but we were also more tired, busy having bedtime ­battles with kids rather than bedroom fun with each other.

As for the second pregnancy, it’s all a bit of a blur. We had our first two babies in 21 months so my brain and body were not quite my own. What I do recall, however, is the aftermath.

It must have been about four weeks after my second child was born when Doug first suggested sex. He had just got in from work, I was stirring something on the hob and he’d collapsed in a small armchair in the corner of the kitchen when he looked at me suggestively, hope in his eyes.

I turned, walked out of the door and had a little cry at what very different places we were in. At that point we’d not really ­discussed how having kids or even how just being married for a while impacts sex and desire.

Dr Karen Gurney, aka The Sex Doctor and author of the aptly named How Not to Let Having Kids Ruin Your Sex Life, says: ‘How much sex we feel like in pregnancy is related to how our bodies are responding but also (and very crucially) what’s going on in our minds and relationships, too.

‘Sexuality is part of all of us, but the visual cues of a bump or the reminders of pregnancy in other ways can bring this new identity as a parent to the fore, and these two identities – particularly the sexual and the maternal – can feel challenging to integrate.’

The body changes during ­pregnancy are, for want of a ­better word, massive. As someone who suffered with an eating disorder as a teenager, I felt conflicted about my body changing. On one hand I delighted in my rounding belly, the fact a baby was growing inside me, on the other having to work to quiet the noise that getting ­bigger was ‘bad’ after years of that association.

I felt guilty for feeling this way and struggled to understand that myself, let alone be able to explain it to Doug. But I think there’s no denying that the less attractive you feel, the less ­interested you are in sex.

In practical terms, there’s quite a lot about pregnancy that is unsexy, too. Constipation, piles and nausea tend not to be on the lists of ‘how to get revved up for passion’. A friend gave me a long list of all the things that made her feel sick during a tough ­pregnancy, including chicken, cleaning her teeth and – unfortunately for everyone involved – her husband.

And then there are the various aches and pains. I had a low-lying placenta during my third and was advised not to have sex; I do remember feeling some relief that I had a bona fide reason to abstain, not just the excuse of being tired.

Generally speaking, advice seems to be that sex is perfectly safe during pregnancy unless a doctor says otherwise. It is actually encouraged if you’re past your due date to get things moving.

We were lucky in that on each occasion, I became pregnant very quickly. The journey to conceive is also likely to impact how a ­couple feels about sex once ­pregnant. If a couple have been actively trying without getting pregnant, or have experienced loss, the ‘magic’ of sex might have been replaced with a kind of functional exchange. With the job done, it’s a tough switch back to something purely for enjoyment and connection.

Another friend said her ­partner was ‘weirded out’ by the proximity of his penis to the baby during sex. One friend’s (now ex) ­husband said he was worried he might ‘hurt the baby’. (Sorry chaps, but with my basic understanding of anatomy, that was never going to happen.)

Another told me, ‘He wouldn’t touch me during either pregnancy’. I’m sure it’s not advisable to lie to your partner, but I’m also certain it’s not a good idea to tell a ­pregnant woman you find her bump off-putting.

A number of women said they absolutely shut up shop for the whole of pregnancy.

But whether you’re feeling ­rampant, repulsed or indifferent, communicating with your partner and trying to understand how you’re both feeling seems to be a pretty crucial part that is missing from much of the noise around pregnancy. There’s endless advice about birth plans, what to pack in your hospital bag and where to get decent maternity jeans, but very little about the different experiences of sex in pregnancy.

Dr Karen says: ‘We know from research that if both partners are enjoying sex through pregnancy, they are more likely to report ­tenderness and positive communication in their relationship after delivery.’

Given the enormous shift for any couple when a baby arrives, every little helps.

Steph Douglas’s podcast and gift business can be found at dontbuyherflowers.com