I’m in Las Vegas this week for work. It’s not exactly the ideal destination for a pregnant woman.
There is cigarette smoke, free booze, and debauchery unfit for preggos at every turn. Plus, today I actually found myself in a casino bathroom with two leggy showgirls in the midst of a costume change. I felt like an aged Clydesdale at the Kentucky Derby.
But there have been some perks:
1. Can’t sleep due to jetlag, baby bulk, or restless legs? Fear not – there are miles of casino floors to roam at all hours.
2. I often feel somewhat conspicuous as a pregnant woman. I don’t feel that way here. I think I’d have to be giving birth in the middle of the Strip, engulfed in flames and maybe adorned with a capuchin monkey or two, to attract even a passing glance.
3. It’s nearly 100 degrees outside but magnificently chilly inside the casinos. There’s nothing a hot-weather preggo appreciates more than powerful AC.
4. Your concerns about appropriate preggo business attire fade away in this land of hot pants, tank tops, and piercings in places you didn’t think could be pierced.
5. The underrated pleasure of being the most sober person in the room – in any room – after dark (and often considerably earlier).
6. Food. Anything imaginable. Available 24/7. This morning I surprised and delighted my Brooklyn-born waiter by ordering steak & eggs for breakfast. “I’m impressed,” he said, smiling. “Don’t usually see a woman doing that at 6:15 am. Gotta be a real woman to do that.”
(This real woman must confess that she was once denied the opportunity to order dessert at a Chinese restaurant elsewhere on the Strip – “No dessert; she already eat a lot!” my waiter exclaimed to the helpful host who tried to offer me some. Sadly, I wasn’t even pregnant at the time.)