On Photography, Motherhood, and Everything That Gets Added Along the Way

by Jessie Wiener

I spoke with New York-based photographer Lelanie Foster over Zoom at 8 pm her time, after both of her kids were asleep. She’s stricter about bedtime than she anticipated. It’s essential for her kids and for her. The evenings feel like a reset, a pocket of time that belongs to her again, a chance to sit and think without interruption.

“This time right now—it’s such a nice space for my brain.”

Finding Her Way In

Photography came into Lelanie’s life in college, but not in a straightforward way. She had always been creative and, for a long time, imagined a future in dance. Earlier in college, she had tried to take a darkroom class but couldn’t get in because Photography wasn’t her major (she majored in Urban Studies and Sociology). By the time she finally could take the class, it was her last semester, and she was already thinking practically about what came next, telling herself not to get too attached: Don’t fall in love with this. How are you going to make a career out of it?

But something shifted once she was in the darkroom.

“Something magical happens in there. I was hooked after that class.”

After she graduated, Lelanie stayed close to photography in any way she could—through production jobs, internships, assisting, and learning by being around it. On set, she paid attention to how things worked. The hierarchy was clear, but how you actually moved forward wasn’t, and she didn’t see many women in those positions. When she did work with a female photographer, it stood out. She felt more embraced and could see a little of herself in her.

So she kept going. Assisting turned into small jobs, and those led to others. Saying yes, often to things she hadn’t done before, became the way forward. That’s what brought her into work like photographing the film Queen & Slim, which opened the door to more film and television work, including key art, the main images used to represent a project. Another assignment, shooting interiors, led to photographing Misty Copeland in her home, a full-circle moment for a former dancer.

Staying in It

Her career didn’t build in a straight line. It moved in cycles. There were quiet stretches, followed by weeks when everything stacked. That unpredictability shapes how you move as a freelancer, and how much you think about staying visible.

“You’re concerned about people still considering you. Not forgetting about you.”

That awareness was still very present when she started thinking about having children. She and her husband had been together for a long time—they’re the best of friends—and always knew they wanted a family. For a while, she tried to place it within her career, waiting for a moment that felt stable enough. Eventually, she let that go.

“I want to do this. I want to have a family,” she says.

Getting pregnant the first time took longer than she expected, which shifted her sense of timing.

“It was surprising. I never thought it would be hard.”

What You Learn in Real Time

When she did get pregnant, Lelanie was comfortable in her body, more confident than she had anticipated, and drawn to documenting it as it happened. She describes wanting “a visual celebration” of that time and feeling more at ease in her body than before. That confidence carried over into how she saw herself, including being more open to going in front of the camera, becoming her own subject.

Her daughter arrived easily, but from the beginning, the baby was uncomfortable, hard to settle, and difficult to put to sleep. Feeding quickly became all-consuming. Lelanie was nursing constantly, dealing with pain and frequent clogged ducts, and still feeling like her daughter wasn’t getting enough.

“I was breastfeeding for like 40 minutes, and then she’d want to eat again. Every hour.”

Her pediatrician was focused on her daughter’s weight and how often she was feeding, suggesting it might be a supply issue and recommending Lelanie supplement with formula. It didn’t feel like anyone was trying to figure out what was actually going on, and she was still feeding constantly, trying to keep up. So Lelanie started looking for answers herself—searching, reading, and eventually finding lactation consultants on her own.

Only the third consultant identified the issue.

“The third one was so thorough. My mind was blown.”

They identified the tongue-ties and tightness in her mouth that had previously been missed and recommended a laser procedure.

“It was literally magic.”

Within days, feeding shortened, sleep came, and the pain and clogged ducts Lelanie had been dealing with began to ease. But what stayed with her wasn’t just that it worked. It was how long it took to get there, and what those first months felt like while she was in them.

“There was a lot of guilt. A lot of self-doubt.”

Lelanie talks about that period as something she had to move through without clear answers, and how much of it depended on finding the right support at the right time. It’s part of why she now shares what she’s learned, because so much of it isn’t obvious when you’re in it.

That experience also shaped how she thinks about access to information more broadly. When she started looking into paid family leave, she realized how difficult it was to understand what was available to her as a freelancer and how much she hadn’t known ahead of time. Once she figured it out, it became something she talked about more openly with other women navigating similar situations.

“I want to be a resource.”

Continuing to Work

Work didn’t pause. Lelanie kept shooting through pregnancy and was still working close to her due date. Being on set while pregnant meant relying on her crew for the more physically demanding parts of the job.

For the most part, both before and after giving birth, she found people to be far more accommodating than she expected, especially on sets with more women, where there was a built-in level of awareness.

At the same time, Lelanie was careful about when and how she shared that she was pregnant. She didn’t want it to change how she was perceived or what she was considered for.

“I didn’t want to be excluded. And I didn’t want to exclude myself.”

That tension—between wanting to keep working as usual and knowing things had shifted—came into focus around a repeat job she had done every year. This time, it was scheduled just two days after her son’s due date, and she had to turn it down. It was the right decision, but it didn’t feel great, and she found herself wondering what it might mean for those relationships.

“I don’t know if that impacted things. That weighed on me.”

At the same time, she’s seen new relationships form, especially in the sphere of women’s health. New opportunities and new people coming into her orbit.

“New relationships are meant to be had.”

A Second Time

Her second pregnancy happened quickly. And then her son’s early months were completely different. Feeding was easy. Sleep came naturally.

“When people talk about that blissful baby experience, we had that with him.”

Now, with two kids, they’ve found a rhythm. Both she and her husband have lots of family close by in the city, which was very important to them. Care is shared between her, her husband, and their parents. Each day looks a little different depending on who’s there and what’s needed.

“When you’re in the thick of it, having another person willing to be in it with you makes all the difference.”

What Changes

Motherhood has shifted how Lelanie moves through things day to day. There’s more patience now, especially the second time around, and a different sense of what needs to be solved right away and what can wait.

“I feel like a different version of the same person. Becoming a mom has just added more.”

She talks about being more aware of how specific each phase is and how finite. How physical it is, how demanding, and how quickly it moves, even when it doesn’t feel like it.

Photography is still central to her identity, but it sits alongside everything else now: motherhood, family, the knowledge she’s gained, and what she shares with other women.

She wants to share more of that now—what she’s figured out, what she wishes she had known earlier, and what might make it easier for someone else. It’s less about changing direction and more about continuing to build on what’s already there, with a clear sense of what matters most to her and how she wants to spend her time.