Since World War II the image of the international photojournalist has been of a swashbuckling raconteur and ladies man. Whatever family life he had back home rarely got in the way of work or pleasure.

There were exceptions, like Margaret Bourke-White, but it wasn’t until the early 1970s that many female photographers started making their marks. Faced with skeptical — or sexist — editors and colleagues, the women found that work sometimes came at the price of their personal lives. Most of those working overseas did not have children, while those who did traveled less and tended to work locally.

But in the last few years a generation of female photographers has emerged, raising children while continuing to take overseas assignments. Gender aside, it takes a resourceful person to succeed, but for a woman who also wants to raise children it takes more — the ability to juggle assignments and the needs of child and partner. Every step has to be planned, every contingency covered: How do you photograph with a baby in a carrier in front of you? How do you make time for breast feeding?

It is a difficult — but necessary — balance, said Erika Larsen, a photographer with a 15 month-old son, Pauhlo.

“I wanted a child, but storytelling means everything to me,” said Ms. Larsen, 37. “I can’t have Pauhlo and stop making stories, because then I’m only a shell of a person.”

Ms. Larsen has combined child and career with the support of her husband, Jorge Vidal, a veterinary technician. She also took her son along while working on a long-term project on the Northern Cheyenne Reservation in Lame Deer, Mont., staying with the family she was photographing.

“I could leave him with the other kids and people would watch him, so it made sense,” she said. “A lot of my work is with families, so to actually bring my new little family member brought depth to my relationship with them. It was me revealing a part of my life and not just them revealing their life.”

Conversations with female photographers who have children revealed that many not only look to their predecessors for professional advice but that they also see each other as role models. Having a partner who is actively involved also seems to be critical for female photographers who continue traveling overseas.

Lynsey Addario has a 2-year-old son, Lukas, with Paul de Bendern, a former Reuters correspondent whom she described as “Unbelievable. Spectacular. Hands on. Good father. Understanding. Patient.”

But before they met, she had difficulty sustaining a long-term relationship and her career.

“Before I got married it was almost impossible to be in a successful relationship because no man wants to hear, ‘Hey, I’m going away for a month, I’ll see you when I get back,’ ” she said. “I was fully committed to my work. You can’t ask someone to be fully committed to you when you’re not fully committed to them.”

Photo

She has taken her son on an assignment in Mississippi and takes him to her speaking engagements. But he usually remains in London with her husband and nanny.

On the other hand, Nadia Shira Cohen often travels with her 2-year-old son, Rafael, and her partner, the photographer Paulo Siqueira. They sometimes work on joint projects, like their story about Brazilians in Japan, where they switched days when one stayed with Rafael and the other photographed.

Motherhood has not only changed how Ms. Cohen works, but her photographs too.

“I don’t know if it’s enriched my photography aesthetically,” she said. “But I can sympathize and empathize with mothers who have lost their children in a completely different way. I feel the issues that people I’m photographing are facing in a deeper way.”

The technology that makes it easier to stay connected still does not diminish the pain of separation when these women have to leave their child at home.

“It makes me sad to watch Lukas on Skype while sitting in a hotel room in the middle of nowhere — missing so many of the first monumental moments of his life,” Ms. Addario said. “It hurts me and it pains me. Paul is with him, but I sometimes feel like I’m failing as a mother.”

Adding to that guilt is the sting of being judged by others’ expectations.

Photo

“To travel when you have a child as a woman is to be stigmatized by your own family members and society at large,” said Rena Effendi, whose daughter, Runi, is 5. “When a mother travels it’s a big deal, but when the father travels it’s just part of the norm.”

In contrast, Ms. Effendi said her mother devoted her life to her raising her as a single mother. But her mother’s sacrifice came at a cost.

“I love her, she’s my mother, but the fact that she sacrificed her life for me doesn’t make me appreciate her more,” Ms. Effendi said. “This is the horrible irony. In a way, it only makes me regret that she didn’t pursue her dreams and didn’t become the individual she wanted to become and not give me this child’s guilt.”

Instead, her mother criticizes her for not sacrificing enough for her own children. It may be a generational difference, or because she has a supportive spouse, but Ms. Effendi says she does not think she has to choose between being a good mother and a working photographer.

“It’s not about quantity of experience but about quality of experience,” she said. “You share with a child, stimulate them, inspire them, show them love.”

The choice for those who cover conflict is clear, though no less difficult. Ms. Addario has survived many harrowing experiences, including being held prisoner by forces loyal to Col. Muammar el-Qaddafi in Libya. Though she still works at times in dangerous circumstances — she was recently photographing refugee camps in northern Iraq — she takes fewer risks, not only because she is a parent, but also because she has lost friends and colleagues.

“Before I had Lukas I thought, ‘Well, it is very possible that I might get injured or killed in the line of work,’ and I just accepted that as part of what I do,” Ms. Addario said. “Now that I have a child I’m much more conscious of my mortality. I have to stay alive because I’m responsible for someone else.”

Yet even on the safest of assignments, bringing a child makes it difficult to concentrate. “To do great work you have to be selfish and focused when shooting,” Ms. Effendi said.

Tanya Habjouqa, a Jordanian-born photographer with two children, understood, but questioned whether selfish was the right word. “They’re walking and demanding and taking your time when you need to be on your game,” she said. “You have to be selfish, but perhaps it’s better to not use that word. We’re made to feel we’re being selfish but in fact, are we? Would you say that about a father?”

Still, like the others, she said photography and storytelling were at the core of who they are, and it was important for a female photographer’s children to see their mother as someone who has a calling and fulfills herself.

“I want to teach my children to be passionate and chase their dreams,” Ms. Habjouqa said. “That’s the best example.”

And one that is worth it.

“To have the joy of watching somebody grow and help shape her into a beautiful person enriches my life as much as anything,” Ms. Effendi said. “It’s the most fascinating story of all the stories you can tell.”

Follow @thabjouqa, @rena_effendi, @lynseyaddario, @JamesEstrin and @nytimesphoto on Twitter. Lens is also on Facebook.