Train Etiquette Part Deux

What is it with MRT rides and moral dilemmas? On the same day as this incident, I faced a quandary of my own. It was not rush hour, but the train was still packed like NTUC FairPrice on the last day before 7% GST took effect. Because I had boarded an east-bound train at an 'ulu-er' (local speak for remote) stop, I found a seat before the slave rats of Raffles Place/City Hall/Bugis flooded the train. At one of these stop, this woman entered the train and situated herself almost right in front of me. She was in her late 30s/early 40s and she had a slightly conspicuous belly.

Oh shit, I thought to myself. It was one of those situations, like when you see a baby in neutral clothing, it's almost impossible to distinguish its gender. Should I or should I not give my seat up? Not giving up a seat to a pregnant lady? Educators will lament the failings of our country's Civics & Moral education (not that they don't anyway). Giving up a seat to a mistakenly identified as pregnant lady? Male sizist supremacist, how dare you! Not every woman with a belly is pregnant, so fuck you! Besides, the Singaporean 'fear of embarrassment' trait lives strong in me.

So, a judgment about the status of the lady had to be made before I could make the seat-giving-up decision.
For the case: The belly, of course.
Against: The old[er] age. Yes, advances to modern medicine has enabled women to give birth at increasingly older ages. But still, you don't see many pregnant 40 year olds in Singapore, do you? The belly was only slightly protruding. She had slightly thick arms and legs, which though by no means fat, were more in line with the look of a hearty lady with a thick waist and thus, belly; usually, pregnant women have bellies, but their arms remain proportionally slim, at least in the early stages of pregnancy. The lady seemed very vivacious, talking energetically with her friends, in a sort-of callous physical manner which seemed unlikely for a mum-to-be fearful of upsetting the stomach/baby. [Note: These are all personal opinioned generalisations on pregnant women. So any mum/mum-to-be reading, I apologise should it be inaccurate in any way!]

This debate raged fiercely in my mind as I remained seated, now closing my eyes permanently (I had begun to nod off even before she boarded), as if trying to create an excuse for my conscience should she really be pregnant. Still, I opened them halfway every ten or so seconds, as if to check if a 'Yes/No, she's pregnant' neon sign had miraculously appeared on her.

Then, salvation arrived. I think it was two or three stops after boarding when pregnant(?) lady alighted the train. Those pangs of guilt slowly began ebbing away, and I slept soundly for the rest of the train journey home.