I rail at march of the body fascists

JUST wait; any day now. Kate Middleton may even have produced a spare heir by the time you read these words, but any moment now women of Britain will be hit with an avalanche of accompanying glossy magazine articles about how to “achieve” the perfect post-baby body.

Hopefully if Kate shows off her second-born to the waiting masses she’ll have the grace to cover that tummy. The last thing well-wishers want to see is evidence that only 24 hours before she was, in fact, nine months pregnant.

On her first public engagement after the birth of George, Nicolas Witchell felt compelled to pass comment on her post-baby appearance in his report, such was its news-worthiness.

Every week, we can read about how some soap star “snapped” their body back into shape in less time than it takes to register a birth.

Stars whose careers seem to depend on their appearance mark their return to the public eye after giving birth with interviews declaring “How I Got My Body Back” like it was their most significant achievement of the year. Disguised as advice, these articles are nothing of the kind.

Here’s the scoop. As many of you know, but are probably beginning to question, growing, and certainly birthing, a child can be brutal.

You don’t just sprout a cute little bump for a few months. Your ligaments soften, your skeleton changes shape, your internal organs are squashed, your senses alter.

It’s a whole-body event and that’s before the delivery room.

Yet there has been a fetishising of pregnant women’s bodies in recent years. With an explosion of so-called celebrities to focus on, and the trend away from the billowing smocks to more body-hugging styles, pregnancy has become a very public affair.

Interest seems to be matched only by the fascination in ensuring all traces of it are swiftly removed.

Pregnancy is a natural, wondrous miracle. But it is also a massive physical endurance test often marked by complications that range from the mundane to the serious.

To reach the end when finally, after all the waiting and worry, you can hold that bundle of joy in your arms, is a special, special time, but that time is stealthily being eroded by the march of the body fascists.

How has western civilisation reached this odd state whereby the chief cause of celebration is not the miracle of life, but ability to squeeze back into a certain pair of jeans afterwards?

Let’s give new mums a break and quit the trim tummy chat.

‘‘ With an explosion of so-called celebrities to focus on, pregnancy has become a public affair