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| Jilly Poo |
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| My story begins in a small town in NJ, I was the 3rd child and first born girl to a pair of average, american parents. Dad was a mechanic and Mom was a waitress. I was a challenge. At an early age, long before my first childhood memories begin, I was a bedwetter. This frustrated my parents who thought it only a maturity thing, so by age 7, they had enough and started putting me in diapers at bedtime. My older brothers mocked me for having to wear them and my Dad made sure I couldn't take them off. Oh the many uses of Duct Tape. Hmmmm, humiliation and torture! Anyway, I started getting High fevers so frequently that I was taken to the doctors and then to the hospital. They found out I had a tilted bladder that retained urine constantly until I layed down and at times, the urine would back up to my kidneys and cause infections. I was in and out of the hospital many times after that. During one of my stays at the hospital, I remeber being taken into an operating room and put to sleep. I was scared because I didn't know where my mother was but couldn't fight the gas. When I awoke several hours later, I was in the recovery room in a giant metal crib with both the sides all they way up and in a diaper once again. I was not a baby and yet I was wearing a diaper and sleeping in a crib. I cried for my mom and the nurse said she would let her know where I was and that I was awake but said I had to stay there another hour or so, and to lay back down and rest. I did as I was told. I didn't have a choice. I felt so alone. My parents were advised that the doctors could perform surgery to correct my problem but that I could also have just as much chance of growing out of it or learning to control it on my own. My parents choose to let me learn to deal with it and opted out of the surgery. I never really grew out of wetting my bed even with my parents waking me every night and sending me to the bathroom. They wouldn't let me wear diapers anymore so I started to long for my diaper days. What once was punishment was now pleasure but I was to be denied it. When I was 10, my little sister was born and I started sneaking diapers out of the changing table to put into my panites at night. Was this wrong? I don't know but it felt right. By Sixth Grade, I still had trouble holding it for long periods of time and was allowed to leave the class room in school when ever the urge hit me, but one dark day, just before Christmas, it happened. I was in class and needed to use the girls room. We had a substitute teacher that day and when I tried to leave the room to go to the bathroom, she told me to sit back down in my chair and wait my turn. Someone else had already left the room and had not come back yet and I couldn't leave until they returned. Trying to avoid trouble, I did as I was told and took my seat. My friend sitting next to me started telling me a funny story and before long, I was laughing. As I laughed, I lost all control of my weak little bladder and started wetting. A large puddle formed under my chair and I was immediately sent to the nurse. Once the chair, the floor and I were all clean and dry once again, I was sent back to class, but I had already earned the nickname "Puddles." All day long, kids teased me and taunted me calling me Puddles. My own brother wouldn't sit next to me on the bus on the way home. That name stuck with me all the way through high school. Even though my sister was no longer wearing diapers, I still wanted them. I started taking the diapers that she had for her baby dolls until those too were all gone ,. I used my allowance to sneak to the store to buy baby diapers then raced home to hide them. Once I had a job and a car, I thought it would be easier, but now I needed something bigger. I was wetting the baby diapers until they leaked but I hated taking them off. I made the leap to Adult diapers as they had just become available in the regular stores at that time. The first time I put one on, it was like coming home again. Oh, how good it felft to pee with freedom but I still hid it for many more years. Since I was so afraid of being found out, I used them sparingly. I hid them in my closet and under my bed, thinking no one would look there. I was wrong. I found out many years later that my mother used to snoop in my room and had even read my diary, which was hidden with my diapers. She never said a word to me about them, not even to this day. Some years after high school, I met a man who had a 2 year old little girl. He was wonderful and kind and I surely would have married him if given the chance. We decided to take our relationship slowly to give both his little girl and I a chance to get used to each other, but I was in love with both of them. I would gladly have become her loving step mother. One day, I decided to tell him about my secret. He had shared his with me, so I knew it would be okay. I asked him to "Pamper"me. Long story short, I have never seen or spoken to him again and my diaper love went back into hiding. Several long and lonely years later, I met another wonderful man and married him in 1993 but fearing he would be scared off by my love for diapers and wanting to act as a baby, I continued to hide my fetish. I hid it from him for nearly 11 years, 9 of them as husband and wife and after having 3 children together. In April of 2002, I found a chat room that was for Adult babies and Diaper lovers and soon found myself to be an active member there. Other AB/DL's encouraged me to tell my beloved the truth and I did. On May 12, 2002, I finally told him the truth. That I am an Adult Baby and Diaper Lover and always have been. He took the news better than I thought, Said he would be supportive but would need some time to get used to it and had a lot of questions for me. I said I would answer all that I could and have been open and honest and for the first time in a very long time, HAPPY with who I am. |
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| My 3 children do not know that their mom wears and wets her diapers and I hope to keep it that way. But if they ever wish to wear diapers, I will certainly not hold them back. |
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| Update: Even though my husband has diapered my twice, he is not as supportive as I had hoped he would be. He has taken to making fun of me for wanting to and wearing diapers. I was so hoping that he would become interested and share in my fetish, but I guess it is not for him. I have decided not to wear in front of him again for a while and see how that goes. Maybe he will eventually not mind and diaper me once again but I won't be holding my breath. |