These days, it doesn't take me long to lose it. Take Saturday for instance. It was payday and Roxi and I decided to go clothes shopping – for Roxi – because I've given up on spending money on large unattractive sacks that become too tight for me after only two weeks of wear.

We'd been at it, say, for about 28 minutes, when I started feeling crabby. 'I'm hungry,' I announced. Roxi's eyes widened and she nodded rapidly while grabbing a few extra items of petite-sized clothes from a railing. 'Will be quick,' she reassured.

It took another, ah say, four minutes for Roxi to try everything on and then join the queue. But the queue was long, and by the time she'd left the queue I was no longer just hungry, I was VERY hungry AND tired.

In an attempt to divert definite disaster, Roxi suggested we get a quick bite to eat at 'a very nice restaurant in the mall.' I was keen. Although I was too hungry and tired to actually say so.

Bad service triggers tears
But when we got to the restaurant there was another queue. Albeit a short one. The manager assured us he'd have us seated within seven minutes. I can do seven minutes, I thought, stupidly. Roxi on the other hand seemed less convinced. 'We can go somewhere else. Let's go somewhere else! We really don't have to wait,' she repeated. But I'd already eyed the fillet and mushroom pasta on the menu board and I wasn't budging til I got it. Except that seven minutes turned into 15 minutes and finally into 20 minutes and by the time we were in the front of the queue, my body was rigid and my silence was stony.

Finally, a table for two cleared and I beelined for it, but before I could sit down, a short smug-faced waiter, WHO OBVIOUSLY COULDN'T SEE I WAS PREGNANT, came up to me and said that before we sit down he had to go and check the manager's clipboard to see whether this table really was our table.

And so, I burst out crying. Roxi, who feels nothing for public displays of emotion (she yells furiously at all traffic and has been known to loudly scold people who don't pay car guards) was unphased by my outburst. But I was mortified. I even hide the fact that I cry in movies. I come out of the darkened cinema after watching Hotel Rwanda, bright eyed and smiling hoping no one will notice the red splotches all over my face. I sat there covering my head with a large serviette, sniffling, hoping that no one would notice. But when I finally emerged, I found both the waiter and manager staring down at me. 'Everything alright?' the manager asked. 'I'm just hungry,' I squeaked, smiling politely.

I wish I could say that my fillet pasta arrived within seconds, but it didn't. However, now that I was so busy putting on a brave face I didn't really notice.

Emotional mayhem
Still, I do look forward to one day being more in control of my emotions. Although from what I've heard, having children commits you to a lifetime of bursting out crying or blurting out in anger at the slightest provocation. So I guess I best get used to this.

Susan Newham is a journalist living in Cape Town with her partner Roxi Blake, who's a graphic designer. Susan fell pregnant after being inseminated with the semen of an identity release donor.

Do you have any teary pregnant stories to share? Please do below. It'll make Susan feel better.