Most of these case studies come from emails my readers send me. With their permission, I share them with the names changed. I do this so that others can learn from what worked and what didn't. Have a story of your own? Share it with me.
- 2 to 11inquiries a month from ads
- $31 to $9cost per inquiry
- 14maternity sessions booked

“Your ad wasn’t approved.”
Odette got that message twice in one week. Odette’s maternity photographer ad troubles start with those two rejections, in Boise, Idaho.
Odette shoots maternity and newborn sessions from a small home studio. She’s good with nervous clients and great with gowns.
She was not good with ads. Her first two got rejected, and her third got lots of likes and almost no messages.
Twelve weeks later, the same small budget was bringing 11 inquiries a month. Nothing about her camera changed. Her words did.
The problem
Odette’s first ad opened with a friendly question. “Are you expecting? Book your maternity session before it’s too late!”
Meta rejected it within an hour. She changed it to “Congrats, mama! Your bump deserves to be celebrated,” and that one was rejected too.
She didn’t understand why. She was being nice.
The rule she didn’t know
Ad platforms don’t let ads say or hint that the reader is pregnant.
Both of her lines talked about the person reading, not about the photo session.
To the review system, “Are you expecting?” looks like an ad that knows something private about you.
The ad that got approved, and flopped
For her third try, Odette dropped the questions. She picked her most dramatic photo, a red gown blowing on a hilltop at sunset.
The text said “Stunning maternity photography. Feel like a goddess. Limited spots!”
It sailed through review. It also collected 240 likes in two weeks, and two inquiries. Neither booked.
| Measure | Before |
|---|---|
| Ads rejected | 2 of 3 |
| Inquiries from ads per month | 2 |
| Cost per inquiry | About $31 |
| Sessions booked from ads | 0 |
When she asked a past client about it, the answer stung a little. “It’s gorgeous. I’d never feel like that woman.”
The solution
Odette stopped writing to an imaginary goddess. She started writing to the clients she already had.
She scrolled through her inbox and listed the worries people had sent before booking. Three came up again and again.
I don’t know what to wear. My husband hates photos. I left it too late, I’m already at 33 weeks.
Each worry became its own ad. Each ad talked about the session and never about the reader’s body.
She also swapped the hilltop photo for real clients in soft light, laughing, with partners and one very proud big brother.
The offer moved to the first line. Her gown closet had always been included, but no ad had ever mentioned it.
The process that worked
She built three ads, one landing page and one small test, over two weekends.
Ad 1, for the closet
“Gowns, hair and makeup in one booking. Maternity sessions in Boise for weeks 28 to 34.”
The headline was “See the gown closet,” and the button said “Learn more,” not “Book now.”
The photo showed a client in a soft blue gown, looking down and smiling. Her face was relaxed, not posed.
Ad 2, for the reluctant partner
“Partners welcome. Most of their photos are hugs, laughs and holding hands. No posing skills needed.”
The photo was a dad laughing so hard his eyes had closed. It got more comments than any ad she’d ever run, mostly tags.
Ad 3, for the late planners
“Booking at 32 weeks? I keep a few short-notice spots every month.”
She was nervous this one sounded pushy. It didn’t, because it was true and it offered help instead of a countdown.
Three women booked from it at 32 or 33 weeks. One said she’d assumed every photographer would turn her away.
The page behind the ads
Before, every ad sent people to her home page, which opened with newborn photos.
Now each tap opened a maternity page with the same gown photo, three steps, the starting price and a “Check your week” button.
She also checked every line against Meta’s advertising standards before she pressed publish. Nothing was rejected again.
How Odette’s maternity photographer ad paid off
She ran the ads at $8 a day, the same budget as before, and counted inquiries every Sunday night.
| Measure | Before | After 12 weeks |
|---|---|---|
| Ads rejected | 2 of 3 | 0 of 3 |
| Inquiries from ads per month | 2 | 11 |
| Cost per inquiry | About $31 | About $9 |
| Maternity sessions booked | 0 | 14 |
Six of those 14 clients also booked a newborn session in the same email. That second booking was worth more than the ads cost all quarter.
What we learned from here
The biggest lesson from Odette’s maternity photographer ads is simple. Write about the session, and let the reader decide it’s for her.
The rejected ads weren’t unkind. They were warm.
But warm words about someone’s body read as nosy in a feed, and the rules agree.
The hilltop photo taught a quieter lesson. A beautiful image can impress people without inviting them.
Likes came from strangers. Inquiries came from people who saw themselves in the picture.
Each ad also did one job. The closet ad answered “What do I wear?”
The partner ad answered “Will he hate it?” Mixing them would have blurred both.
Odette now starts every new maternity photographer ad copy draft from one question in her inbox.
She reads it out loud before it goes live. If it sounds like a perfume ad, she starts again.
Here’s what worked and what didn’t.
| Brought messages | Only brought likes |
|---|---|
| A real client laughing in soft light | A red gown on a hilltop |
| Gowns, hair and makeup in the first line | Stunning and goddess |
| One worry per ad | Three promises in one ad |
| A page that opened on the same photo | A home page full of newborns |
| Short-notice spots that really existed | Limited spots, with no number |
One thing surprised her. The partner ad brought in the most bookings, even though she’d almost skipped it.
Partners, it turns out, often make the call. A mom who tags her husband under an ad is half booked already.
Another thing didn’t work at all. She tried a video ad of a gown twirling.
It looked lovely and brought one message in two weeks, so she paused it and put the money back into the partner ad.
Next season she plans an autumn version of the closet ad, with knit dresses and orange leaves, starting six weeks before the leaves turn.









