Mothers often complain that they never have sex. Fiona Gibson reveals why.

'You've got to be kidding,' shudders my friend Jacqui.
'You are joking, aren't you?' winces Sara.

We are talking, of course, about sex (or, more precisely, sex after childbirth). All three of us have new babies ranging from three weeks to five months. We are awash with nappies and bottles and permanently dribbling breasts. Our underwear is sturdy and forbidding and none of us are feeling particularly frisky at this moment in time.

It's true: once you've produced a dimple-cheeked babe, you will never have sex again. Correction: of course you will (after all, lots of children have younger siblings. But that's sex for procreation's sake; I'm talking the naughty, messy, enjoyable kind. I mean sex for sex's sake).

Your partner wants to, of course. Here lies a crucial difference in men and women's experiences: while you were acquainting yourself with a giant set of gleaming forceps, your lover was perched on a stool, filching snacks from your hospital bag. He would have finished the Guardian crossword if you hadn't started thrashing about and making that Godawful screeching noise. I am reminded of a friend, Henry, who recently called to announce his baby's safe arrival: 'How did it go?' I enquired, anxiously. 'I'm exhausted,' he panted.

When wife and baby arrived home, Henry was perturbed to be whittled off to the spare room. 'It made sense because Mel was breastfeeding so I couldn't help with night feeds,' he says quickly. 'And we decided that one of us may as well get a full night's kip.' But now, six months down the line, Henry suspects the arrangement is 'more to do with Mel avoiding all bodily contact with me. Let's face it: we're unlikely to start up our sex life again if we're rarely in the same room.'

Henry has hit on the horrible truth: after childbirth, women equate bedtime with sleeping. We're obsessed with sleep. We adore duvets and pillows. We calculate how much shut-eye we should be having and how much has been thieved from under our noses. We say, 'The baby woke at midnight, two and five-thirty.' Such obsession with nocturnal wakenings does not send one's libido soaring. 'I cannot imagine wasting perfectly good sleeping time by rolling about and being active,' scowls Jodie, three months after having her daughter. 'If we do have sex, it has to be quick, because I'm not prepared to let it eat into precious sleeping time.'

Even if you feel amorous, nature conspires to make intimacy virtually impossible. To have sex, you need to feel sexy - yet it's overwhelmingly difficult to clear one's mind of baby-related chores. Even if no one wakes up demanding attention, you find yourself - just as your partner skillfully removes your underwear - cursing, 'Damn. I forgot to put a wash on.'

Another libido-quasher is the fear of getting pregnant again. Caroline, a neighbour, was sterilized and (naturally) alarmed to discover that her nausea and tiredness were less to do with hangovers and more to do with pregnancy. 'Can't you sue?' I blinked, horrified.
'I asked my GP,' sighed Caroline. 'He pointed out that no contraceptive method is 100% reliable.'

So how can you ensure that you're not scooting towards Dorothy Perkins' maternity rail yet again? I vaguely recall that contraception talk in hospital, when a midwife patiently explained about condoms/caps/IUDs. All utterly unnecessary. Stained T-shirts do the job very nicely. Your knickers (a mishmash of pre-pregnancy skimpies - now too tight - and saggy maternity leftovers) are as effective as any barrier method. As for your breasts, Agent Provocateur have yet to design a desirable nursing bra. Even if they did, it would be sodden with sour-smelling milk.

As for more intimate regions, my midwife informed me that stitches in the perineum should heal within six weeks. Tell that to my colleague who, eight months after childbirth, still cannot make love without gritting her teeth.

But perhaps time heals all ills. Research indicates that most couples resume love-making within three months (though less frequently than pre-baby). My partner and I are already nudging towards the six-month mark.

But why rush things? Any woman who has had inside knowledge of a delivery suite is more than happy to wait.