Chelsea Corinne Photography the Blog » lifestyle photographer

warning……long personal post, may be TMI.



(picture behind story at bottom)

Today marks 23 weeks for my 6th and final pregnancy.  It also marks my toughest one.  Here’s a little background on my other pregnancies, my first pregnancy at 19 years old; I was very sick had all the symptoms of pregnancy, then around 13 weeks I miscarried, I woke up bleeding one morning and then had to have a D&C.  It wasn’t easy, especially because I had several friends who were pregnant as well, I didn’t understand it why it had happened.  My second pregnancy at 20/21 was sickness, alllllllll day sickness, I would throw up day in and day out, I wanted to sleep for 9 months, but come the 2nd trimester I started to feel more human again, then my first daughter was born.  My third pregnancy at 23 was the same as my second, symptoms lasting a little longer with this one, but by this time I knew how to control the throwing up and knew when it was coming.  After about 18-20 weeks I was feeling more human, with just a bigger belly, my son was born.  My fourth pregnancy at 25 was very different from the other, I wasn’t sick at all, the day of my missed period with the others I was sick immediately, this time I wasn’t not even a little bit.  I took it as maybe God was giving me a free pass this pregnancy that it was going to be easier on my body, so I wasn’t stressed or scared.  I was excited that we were going to have another one and that it was going to be throw up free.  9 weeks in on Thanksgiving morning, I miscarried.  It was very rough on me, I didn’t understand why I was losing this baby, when I had had two healthy pregnancies before that.  Shortly after my miscarriage I got pregnant for the fifth time at 26.  Again symptoms happened right away and continued, they let up around 15 weeks and I was feeling great-as much as you can carrying a large watermelon around 24/7.  Our second little girl was born.

I always knew I wanted at least three kids.  But after my third came, there was this overwhelming feeling of I don’t think I’m done, I don’t feel like our family is quite complete.  When people would ask me if I was done having kids I said, “I am for now” and left it at that.  18 months after she was born I become pregnant, with my sixth pregnancy.  My husband and I were very excited to have another one.  Of course the day of my missed period I woke with the typical symptoms, nausea, throwing up, feeling like a ton of bricks hit me, exhausted.  It made me happy knowing that this would be a good pregnancy that these symptoms brought comfort to me knowing that we would have another little one soon.  The next day I woke up feeling like a million bucks.  I felt amazing, didn’t feel one drop of sickness, I was then very hesitant and scared, my last miscarriage was this way.  I wasn’t a drop of sick my last miscarriage, all I could think was I’m going to miscarry.  I immediately set up a blood draw with my doctor, I wanted to calm my nerves and know before it would happen (ok logically speaking I wouldn’t know before it happened, but this calmed me, at least for the time being).   Then after an extremely long weekend we did it again and my numbers kept going up-which was a good sign.  My doctor-seriously the best doctor EVER-calmed me a little and said EVERY pregnancy is different, no two pregnancies are the same.  So I took that into consideration and went on hoping every day I would get sick.  It was my since of comfort during pregnancy knowing that it would be a good pregnancy.  Morning after morning I would wait to see how I felt and I felt great, minus being tired.  Finally after about 2 weeks it happened.  The sickness happened.  The days of forever happened.  In my other pregnancies I would immediately throw up and then eat something and I felt a lot better.  But with this one, this one was completely different.  I would wake up and throw up, then I would eat something, and throw up again.  Then I would eat again, because I knew if I didn’t I would be sick and it would be painful if I didn’t eat.  By lunch time I was done for the day, I was so exhausted that when I put the baby down for a nap and a movie (yes I did it and I had to) for the other two I would nap.  I had to, I had to nap every single day, if I didn’t I wouldn’t make it through the day. Immediately after I woke from my nap I would be sick and I would feel so gross, I was always hot and felt like a ton of bricks.  I would count down the hours until it was bedtime.  That was the only time I sort of felt good, laying down and hoping I wasn’t going to get sick, that I could just fall asleep and not think about being sick.  My sense of smell was also a trigger for me throwing up, oh man anything and everything would make me throw up.  I counted down the days and tried to survive on anything I could to get me through and get me energy to take care of my kids.  This was over the summer, the whole 2.5 months my kids were home from school that I was feeling like death had taken over my body.  I would cry myself to sleep a lot, because I felt like I was failing my kids because I wasn’t able to do things, I didn’t want to do things because I felt horrible, so horrible.  It made me second guess my pregnancy, if we, I, was doing the right thing by having another baby.  I wasn’t present with them and they knew I felt terrible.  They knew my routine of being sick or knew I had to pullover to throw up.  I hated them seeing me like this, it made me feel very weak in front of them, I was very weak.



My kids were so incredibly kind to me.  My oldest helped out so much, getting me water, getting me a blanket, being a little mom.  Whenever I was sick my son would come up and ask me if I was ok.  My littlest one helped me in the bathroom, she would come in with me (like any toddler) and would rub my back as I had my head over the toilet.  My mom snapped this picture of them all waiting in the hallway as I was in the bathroom throwing up.  They were all concerned for me and wanted to make sure I was alright.  When I finally hit the 12 weeks I was hoping and praying the sickness would soon go away.  Each week after that I would keep hoping and wishing.  It was a very strange pregnancy for me, I would throw up every morning into the 2nd trimester and still be extremely tired (napping every day I could), but then I would randomly be sick, even after I did everything I knew or thought would insure me not to, making sure I ate, making sure I didn’t go sit down or lay down immediately after eating, or making sure I ate the right things.  I have a few other friends who are pregnant as well and as I saw them announcing their pregnancies so easily I was hesitant.  At first because I am a professional photographer, I feel there’s this higher expectation (or maybe I put it on myself) to have a creative announcement.  I thought of so many different things I could do and I either didn’t have the energy to do them or I didn’t think it was going to be good enough.  I hadn’t told many people that I was pregnant.  My family eventually found out or was told by us.  Then as I was getting bigger and telling people, the comments started rolling in……the hurtful ones.

“You’re pregnant again?” (with the shocked look, are you crazy?)

“Don’t you know how much kids cost?”

“Baby number 4?!  WOW!”

“Don’t you know how kids are made?”

“Do you think that’s a smart idea?”

“Oh WOW you have your hands full”

“This is the last one, isn’t it?”

“I hope one of you is getting fixed after this”

“Birth control is affordable you know”

“You’re a busy mom”

That’s just a few of the comments I have gotten so far, I don’t assume it will stop anytime now or after baby comes.  Adding these in to me not feeling good has made it harder and made it harder for me to want to announce to the world that I’m pregnant again.  I have thought about keeping it secret until baby comes, but this being my last pregnancy I want to share it, I want to be excited for it and not have to feel as if I have to hide it.  I’m tired of the mean comments I’ve gotten so far, that I should feel ashamed that I wanted another child.  This child should come into a world that is accepting and loving, not one that wishes their parents didn’t make the right decision by having another one.  I have felt defensive as I have told people that I am pregnant with 4, I wait for their negative comment, and I say immediately after “this IS the last one” but I HATE that I feel that way.  Feel that I have to say it like, I’m wrong for wanting to have another.  Having been extremely sick and having this by all means be my worse pregnancy and then having to defend myself, it hasn’t been an easy 23 weeks.  As you continue to have kids, people get less and less excited for you.  Every child should be celebrated and loved, no matter if they are the first child or the fourth or seventh for that matter.  JUST over the last 2-3 weeks I have finally started to feel good again, haven’t thrown up but maybe once or twice and haven’t been as tired as I was. I still have annoying symptoms that I know will go away once baby comes, but at the moment make things more uncomfortable.  It’s also helped that I have started to feel the baby kicking.  Feeling the little kicks inside are also such an incredible feeling.  I have 17 weeks to go till this little one arrives and now that I have finally felt the courage to come out and “officially” tell people and not feel ashamed like I was feeling, I feel better.  Maybe I over think things-ok I do, my husband tells me all the time I do-but I’m the one that gets the looks and the comments and I am only human, I can only take so much of it.  I’m not even sure if anyone will even read this, but if they do I hope that you think before you make one of those comments to anyone expecting.  Every child deserves to be welcomed into this world, even if they are still growing.  Show them this can be a wonderful, kind place to live.




Story behind the pregnancy picture

Like I said up above, I had no many ideas on how to announce the pregnancy, but I was either too sick to do any of them or I didn’t think they were good enough.  This picture wasn’t what I wanted, I wanted a perfect silhouette in front of some flowing sheer curtains and wanted to look like a beautiful pregnant woman, with the perfect round belly and of course perfect messy bun.  Instead I got this picture taken in front of the only windows/doors that had light coming in, distracting porch chairs on the deck, messy bookcase and a chair-a chair that could’ve been moved easily, but wasn’t- it’s a glimpse that not everything is perfect, and nothing will be.  The symbol of this pregnancy for me, that it hasn’t been easy on me emotionally or physically, or my family.  That it has been rough, but there is an end in sight and we are slowly but surely getting there.  In a blink of an eye we will be there and be long past it, time will fly the moment our little one arrives.



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  • Heather Whitten - CONGRATULAIONS!!!! I have felt like this a lot through our family-growing years! Know that you are loved and not alone! And, you ALREADY know that all of those babies are so loved and so lucky to have you as their mother… But, I know how good it feels to get those kind of comments so read it over and over and over!!!
    Thank you for sharing with us! Can’t wait to see where his adventure leads your family and to Internet-meet the sweet new addition!!

I had a great time taking A’s senior pictures.  We did it on a private location in Hampshire (I have access to, if anyone wants to do their session there), it has a pond, woods, openness.  It was perfect.  We had so much fun laughing, ok maybe she was laughing at me during the shoot, but whatever makes my clients smile.



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I have been photographing this family since their oldest was just under 2 years old and his sister was only a couple months old.  These three are now 6, 5, 3 years old and SO awesome!  They were incredible during their shoot.  When I tell brothers and sisters to hug I get the yuck face or a groan.  These three went right to hugging each other.  I just captured them.  They did the rest.



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I don’t normally post personal blogs, but I’m going to today.  It’s a little bit of a heavy post, just to warn you.

Growing up I was always terrified of death, like most kids, it was/is a scary thing to understand and deal with.  I am grateful to have grown up with all my grandparents, all 5 of them.  I lost my first grandparent, my grandma, almost 4 years ago, 1 week before my son was born.  Attending my grandma’s memorial service and having a 4 day old with post pregnancy hormones, oh wow not an easy thing.  Having her being the first person I ever lost, was even more difficult.  But it wasn’t as difficult as I thought it would be as a child.  Maybe it’s because I got to enjoy my grandparents for so much of my life (I was 24 when my grandma passed away).  I was close with her and loved her so very much, she was a wonderful person.

On to why I am posting this blog today, my grandpa, my grandma’s {who passed} husband, passed away on Saturday.  Just two days ago.  The last couple years have been rough, it’s been so hard to see him forget who we are.  It’s been so tough.  But instead of thinking about that, all I can think is, he’s in a better place now, he’s back with grandma, and as much as they playfully yelled at each other or were super stubborn with the other one, gosh they really did love each other SOOOOO much.  They were married for 65 years (which happens that my youngest daughter was born on their wedding anniversary, would have been their 68th) when my grandmother passed.  I am grateful my grandpa is finally at peace now.

I don’t think I’ve fully come to realize he’s gone yet, once we have his memorial service {in April} I think that’s when it will finally hit me that he’s gone.  My grandpa was a great man, he worked so hard for his family and worked so hard for the life he had.  I was his favorite granddaughter, ok I was his only.  I was number 5 of 8 grandkids, and the ONLY girl.  Needless to say I was more of a tomboy.  I hate when people call my girls ‘princess’ or if someone did when I was younger, EXCEPT my grandpa, I was HIS ‘princess’ and ONLY his.  He LOVED my kids, whenever I brought them to see him, he was overjoyed, the smile never left his face when they were around him.  I am so very thankful that my kids got to meet him, my older two I think will remember him and remember the times we spent with him.

A part of me is sad of course that he is gone, but the other part of me is so grateful and thankful that I was lucky enough to have him as MY grandpa.  It’s hard knowing that both of my dads parents are gone now, that part of my family is missing a generation.  But it’s the story of life and my grandpa and grandma are back together again and man they lived a wonderful life.  They lived to 90 (my grandma) & 93 years old.  They lived on their own until my grandma passed.  That’s incredible in my book.  I’m just grateful that I was able to know my grandparents growing up.  I have 3 other grandparents still living, that I am grateful for as well, they are just as incredible as these two souls were.

There may be 3 people that read this post, 2 being my mom and husband. That’s ok, this post is more for me, then anyway else.  When someone loses someone I usually tell them I’m sorry and I’m praying for them.  You don’t have to tell me you’re sorry, it’s ok, my grandpa lived a wonderful life and it was his time to go.  I’m happy for him that he is finally at rest.  I’m happy that I knew him, that I was blessed with SO many long, healthy years with him.  I’m blessed for all the memories I have with him, how to win at pinochle, him joking that we sat on his pie, or the cookies he hide in the cabinets that we could always count on enjoying with him.


Grandpa and I, circa 1988, I was about 1.5 year old.


Grandpa and I, August 2011.



This is my grandpa and grandma on their 65th wedding anniversary, November 14th, 2010.PINIMAGE

Life goes on, but you two will not be missed in my heart or my memories.


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I LOOOOOOOOOVE Fresh 48 sessions.  It’s wonderful photographing the new little peanut and his parents and meeting his new siblings for the first time.  It’s so precious seeing their reactions.  Big sister was so excited to meet him.  His oldest brother was was a little disappointed that he was a boy and not a girl, but didn’t want to stop touching, kissing and holding him.  While middle brother wanted nothing at all to do with baby, he’s 2, can you blame him?  Babies aren’t that interesting to a 2 year old.



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