How to talk to a non-mother

SALT LAKE CITY — We live in a time and place where people are, in my opinion, overly sensitive to us non-mothers (and really, I guess there isn't such a thing as being "too sensitive," is there?). People unnaturally go out of their way to express emphatic support toward a 30-something childless woman, who is clawing her way up the corporate ladder.

Because we're aware of the realities and pain surrounding infertility, we try not to pry or ask hurtful questions...almost to the point of social awkwardness. And well-meaning friends forcefully try to convince you that "the grass is greener" on your side because they would KILL to freely stroll the aisles of T.J.Maxx without kids in tow.

Like I said, most people are extremely sensitive toward us non-mothers. But I'm so grateful my friends aren't.

Don't get me wrong. During my single years they were kind, they were understanding, they were sympathetic to my childless state. But they didn't let our differences — in this case, kids — define our relationship.

Here are three specific ways they supported me, as a non-mother:

1. They let me play the part My dear friend Chelsea was blessed with two beautiful twin girls in our early-20s. Considering her double baby state, my second pair of hands became especially helpful during our regular lunch outings. Twins naturally attract a lot of attention in public, and it didn't hurt that they were ridiculously adorable. More than once when they were in my arms or in my care, a stranger would ask: "How old are they?" I would awkwardly jump in and say, "Oh, they aren't mine. I wish they were! But they are my friend Chelsea's. See my friend? She's right over there. They are hers. Aren't they darling? Anyway, they are 18 months." This same scenario played out again and again. One day, Chelsea apparently became fed up with my long, rambling response. "Would you just tell them how old they are?!" she exclaimed. "Who cares who they belong to? You're pushing the stroller, so just answer the question!" She didn't seem fazed I would be claiming her girls in a roundabout way, or even stealing her title. In fact, she seemed happy to share it. She let me borrow her babies as much and as often as I liked — for a McDonald's lunch date, for a trip to the pumpkin patch, for a Friday night spendover. Chelsea stepped back and let me play the part of mom, even though I wasn't one. I'm grateful to her for that.
2. They trusted me with their worldI distinctly remember having a conversation with Laci, another amazing mother figure and friend in my life. She had just given birth to her third child and felt overwhelmed at the thought of spreading her time and attention between three busy, active kids. On one of our regular mid-afternoon phone chats, she pointedly asked, "How am I going to do this?" Feeling very unqualified to answer the question, I offered my outside observation: that she was doing a great job, and even just 5 minutes of one-on-one attention with each child could go a long way. She accepted the advice, and even seemed grateful for it — advice from me, a non-mother. Laci didn't care that I wasn't officially "one of them." Just because I wasn't changing diapers on a daily basis, didn't mean I couldn't engage in a conversation about it. She included me in her motherly thoughts, her motherly frustrations, her motherly concerns; she welcomed me into her world. I'm grateful to her for that.
3. They talked frankly about the futureYou would be lucky to know my friend Emily. She is sweeter than honey and possesses a rare sincerity that other people seem to grow out of. After rooming together at college, Emily and I set out on very different paths. She got married at the age of 20, and announced her fifth pregnancy before I announced my engagement. I love hearing Emily talk about her kids, her family life, and her love for motherhood. And with the birth of each baby, she would boldly talk about my future family. "I can't wait to meet your babies, Brooke," she would say. "Your babies are going to be beautiful." "Your babies." It's a phrase most people would frantically swim away from when talking to a nearly 30-year-old single gal, but Emily took it head-on. She never flinched. And you know what? Instead of coming across as cutting, it was comforting.There were many times that her optimistic confidence toward my situation pulled me out of a "will-I-ever-get-the-chance-to-be-a-mom?" slump. Emily always showed faith. She wasn't afraid to talk frankly about my future, and the mothering opportunities that lie ahead. I'm grateful to her for that.

I'm married now, and my dreams of motherhood are hopefully within closer reach, but I still look back on those single years and feel overwhelmingly grateful for the motherly examples and motherly opportunities that were gifted to me.

There was something refreshing and hopeful about my friends' approach. They never made me feel like I was just watching and waiting from the sidelines. Author Sheri Dew taught us that all women are mothers, that we all possess that innate desire to nurture and to serve. I'm grateful I had friends who believed that too.

This Mother's Day, I would encourage you to talk to the non-mothers in your life a little differently. Try to make them feel like part of the club.

When you worry less about being offensive and more about being real, my guess is the non-mothers in your life will appreciate your candid approach.

And at the end of the day, don't feel too bad for us. After all, the aisles of T.J.Maxx are waiting.

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