Pregnancy Trials and Tribulations

The problem with being out and about is that sooner rather than later you have to pee. My bladder fills up as soon as it is emptied. Knowing this, I am now keeping my outings close to home or to destinations I know have a decent bathroom. No more Manhattan or Brooklyn adventures with the bus pass or the museum card until I'm no longer carrying around a huge pumpkin for a belly.  I simply cannot afford to be in a public transportation situation for more than twenty minutes. What if the train gets stuck on the bridge? Forgot about visions of terrorist attacks, I just would freak out if the urge to pee came upon me at a most inopportune time. Today I stayed close to home. My daughter and I walked to the post office and quickly left as I eyed the line. Nobody offered to let me go to the front. Not that I would expect that. But I couldn't afford to be stuck in a slow-moving line dealing with the urge to pee. The next stop was to Kid City to spend my daughter's Halloween money from her great grandparents.  As soon as we entered the store, I thought I was going into labor. That's just a paranoid reaction to aches, pains, and cramping. I leaned against a kiosk of kids sweatsuits, imagining what a stir I would cause if I did drop to the floor. Lucky we were only one block from home and two blocks from a hospital, albeit an unsavory one. Also, baby daddy was home and would probably sprint over if I texted him. I was tempted to, almost fantasizing about being rescued from a store about to give birth. (As you can tell, I'm getting a bit bored with the pregnancy. I want a little drama.)  All too soon, the discomfort passed and I caught up with my daughter who was picking out an dress to buy with the help from the nice saleslady.  By the time we left the store, I needed to pee. It was a one minute walk home. I thought I'd better sit down and take it easy the rest of the day.  I still needed to carve pumpkins and make dinner. Better pace myself.  I'm beginning to think that it is a good idea when you're 32 and a half weeks pregnant at age 46 to take it easy some everyday. This isn't a 25-year old pregnancy after all. I have no problem with taking it easy.  I'm definitely using my pregnancy to achieve couch potato-ism. I think often of the pregnant women working in rice fields right up to the big day, then I feel guilty for slouching on the couch.  What's an American 46-year old pregnant woman to do? I'm darned if I do take it easy and I'm darned if I don't. I call this predicament pregnancy limbo.  For we really don't know what to do with ourselves or how to pass the time. Seven and a half more weeks to go, if I stay on track. If I can't even walk to the post office and to the store down the block without some sort of obstacle, I'm in for a boring rest of the trimester.