Oh God, I need to pee I had thought, sweating, as I ran.

It s funny how you can be in good shape, fit, and yet when you need to pee you’re doubled over and trying to run without moving your thighs relative to each other, calves only.

Sort of like a baby learning to walk. Perhaps prophetically.

Oh, God, please no.

For years I d wondered if there was a God.

But ten minutes ago as I was bolting the last few blocks home, I was becoming pretty darn sure that there wasn’t one.

I suppose I could ve argued that there was a God because there was no one around to see as my bladder finally gave way and my panties filled will pee.

Good day to wear a mini-skirt I thought, although shorts or jeans might ve stopped the pee working its way down my legs and into my socks and sneakers.

That there were no onlookers was nice, but I d totally turned atheist when I saw my Mum s mini in the driveway.

What in blazes??! I d groaned.

For a moment I’d contemplated heading elsewhere.

The mall perhaps? Buy some new clothes?

The thought of being wet around hundreds of others was unappealing, but it became a moot point when I’d heard my Mum s voice:

Hello Sarah!

Shit. My mum had been standing there watering the garden.

If I hadn’t already wet myself I m sure the noise of the garden hose would ve been the last straw.

Oh, hi Mum! and after a pause I’d continued, This is a nice surprise, lying.

A couple of my afternoon meetings were canceled, so I got to knock off early was her reply.

But her words trailed off. My heart sank as I realized she was looking at my legs.

You’ve wet yourself again haven t you?

I couldn’t believe it. I guess even the mini-skirt wasn’t helping.

I didn’t need to go at school, it just came on.

I m sorry.

I have a problem.

I couldn’t help having accidents like this and I couldn’t help the tears that started rolling down my cheek.

In truth, this was probably the tenth time that I d peed my pants in the last few weeks, but from my Mum s point of view, it was the third.

But it was also the first that she knew of that hadn’t been through the night.

Honey, its ok my Mum responded.

I could tell her mind was working away, pondering what to do.

Did anyone see you?

No. Sobbing.

Come inside, let s get you out of those panties.

A pause. Sarah Another pause, and I could feel my whole body getting heavy.

I remember having had such a feeling of dread, which in hindsight was sort of weird because I knew exactly what she was going to say.

I think you should wear the protection that we talked about.

A week or so earlier my Mum had caught me sneaking wet sheets to the laundry and had suggested that since this was my second (or so she thought ) accident, I should perhaps wear some nighttime protection.

You’re not a baby, honey, but some people just suffer occasional incontinence its nothing to be ashamed of, she had said.

You know when you’re having a conversation that is just so uncomfortable that you’re prepared to say anything just to put it behind you?

Ok, whatever, but it won’t happen again, it’s just been bad luck, had been my response.

Well, I m going to buy some adult diapers for you, honey, just in case. If it happens again I think you should wear them

I said ok Mum can we just give it a rest?

Hey, don t talk to me like that this is my house, I buy your clothes, I own the bed you sleep in when you move out you can do what you want.

My Mum s a patient woman, and good at empathizing. She quickly continued Oh, I m sorry hon I m just trying to help

Yeah, I know Mum.

I didn’t mean to snap.

But it won’t happen again, honest.

Lie. Either way, that was a week ago.

I d agreed back then to my mum s suggestion, and she wasn’t someone who lost arguments.

Wear a pull-up or something for one night? I could handle that.

I d done so a few times in my early teenage years when I d had accidents. My mum would most likely let up the next morning.

Go upstairs and take a shower and then wait for me in your bedroom.

So all of that was ten minutes ago.

Now here I was, sitting on my bed with a towel around me.

I could hear the sound of a plastic bag crinkling downstairs.

Then Mum s footsteps coming up the stairs.

My bedroom door opened.

There was my Mum with a shopping bag in her hand.

A big cubic looking package was inside it.

She pulled the package out of the shopping bag, revealing it to be a green package of Depends adult diapers.

Well, not pull-ups I guess. I honestly felt like I was in a trance. 18 years old.

Last few months of high school.

Looking towards college and an independent life.

And now sitting in my bedroom waiting for my Mum to put a big, thick, disposable diaper on me.

Lie back dear, and take that towel off.

She tore open the bag and pulled out one of the diapers.

I d never been one to care too much about modesty, so my Mum saw me naked quite a bit, even now at 18 with pubic hair (actually very little) and boobs bigger than hers something I used to tease her about.

But right then I felt incredibly modest.

Obeying her command, I lay back and parted the towel as I did so.

Spread your legs a little honey can you raise your bottom a bit?

I can t believe this is happening was all that went through my mind as I lifted my butt, supporting myself on my feet.

She placed the now unfolded diaper under my butt. I lay back down.

God (him again), it’s thick, I remember thinking.

My mum pulled the diaper up between my legs.

I suppose I should have been worried at that point because my first thought was that it felt incredibly soft, actually quite comfortable.

Sort of like lounging around on a winter’s day in front of a fire wear comfy track pants and a fleece.

But I wasn’t really cognoscente of any feelings at that point like I said, I felt like I was in a trance.

My mum reached to either side of me and fastened the tapes, securing the diaper in place.

I suppose it was only an inch or so thick, but it sure felt bulky.

Hopefully, you won’t need to use it, but it’s good to wear one just in case.

And I don t think anyone can tell, as long as you wear skirts.

Might want to wear some of your longer ones if you go outside though!

Oh, don t joke Mum, I thought.

Outside? The notion was too scary to even really register.

I sat up and she handed me a t-shirt which I hurriedly put on.

I grabbed some cotton shorts out of a drawer.

Some vague, long-unrecalled memory came back of the way I used to walk when I was five and I still wore diapers at night.

A kind of scrunchy waddle.

The shorts covered the diaper but did little to hide it there was a clearly defined diaper-shaped bulge in my pants region.

My Mum had been observing me the whole time.

I think she must have felt a little upset her daughter obviously had a problem, and I don t think she really knew how to deal with it.

Would you put your adult daughter back in diapers? In hindsight, I think her suggestion of protection had been to try to shock me into not having accidents.

Eventually, she spoke.

Listen, Sarah. I don t want you to feel bad about this.

I just want you to wear them for a few days.

Let s see, I want you to wear diapers day and night for, say, a week, but try not to use them.

If you don t wet them in that time then perhaps we ll have sort of shocked your system into being able to hold on when you need to pee.

And don t worry if you do have any accidents I ll always support you, and we ll book you in to see Doctor  Shaw.

Ok, Mum. What else was there to say?

I didn’t have any trouble reaching the toilet the rest of the day.

I even got up once through the night.

But when my alarm screeched at me at 7.30 the next morning, my usual jolt to the system from the alarm clock was supplemented by a new jolt to the system a soggy, wet jolt to the system.

Oh, shit. I thought. Another strike against the almighty.

What to do, what to do. Could I hide it? I jumped out of bed and ran across the room in my sloshy diaper, to the drawer where the package of fresh diapers was.

At that point, I realized that some light was shining through the crack at the bottom of my door my Mum must be up.

And she must ve heard me jumping out of bed and bolting across the room.

Cursing our wooden floors I grabbed a fresh diaper and ripped my wet, soggy one-off. Jeez, I sure can pee a lot I thought.

Footsteps. I froze. I quickly taped the fresh diaper in place and shoved the wet one in the diaper drawer.

I was more wide awake than I ve ever been and my heart was racing, but I tried to pretend like I was still half-awake as the door opened.

How did you go, honey? were my Mum’s words.

Huh? Oh, did I wet my diaper? No, no all good Mum.

Some people are good liars. I, however, am a rotten liar.

There must ve been fifty hints to my mum that there was more than met the eye.

My beet-red face.

The obvious freshness of the diaper.

The hint of pee smell in the room.

Honey, listen.

You have to be honest with me.

You have a problem, and concealing it wont help it.

You have to accept it.

I was crying before she d even finished her spiel.

Oh, Mum! I sobbed.

It s ok dear hang in there. Listen, I m going to call your school and say that you’ve been throwing up through the night and won’t be in today, and maybe not for a couple of days.

So you won’t need to deal with this at school for a little while. And I’ll make a booking with Dr. Shaw

That was, admittedly, pretty thoughtful of her.

But I was then surprised when she started chuckling.

You know Sarah, if you really wanted to get away with it, you d have been best to actually put all the tapes on that diaper.

I looked down and laughed. It felt good to laugh.

My diaper ( my diaper how strange to think about it like that like I m someone who wears diapers.

Which, I guess, is what I am) was hanging, two tapes fastened on one side but only one on the other.

It was distinctly sagging.

You gave me 5 years of practice at changing your diapers when you were young, and you thought that would pass off as my handiwork?!

I blush and laughed along with her.

Lie down, my Mum ordered.

I lay down and she re-fastened my diaper, good and snug.

She then retrieved the other diaper from the drawer (which it turned out I d neglected to close I really am a rotten liar!).

Wow, this diaper sure is wet honey.

She paused for a moment.

Sarah, I think I better double diaper you, you seem to be a heavy wetter, and I want to make sure you don t have any leaks.

I also bought some plastic pants and I think perhaps you better wear them too.

There wasn’t much point in arguing.

To be honest, at that point the thought of two diapers really didn’t bother me.

It scared me a little but I felt quite the opposite really.

Ok, Mum, I said. Double diaper me.

She grabbed a second diaper and put it on over the first.

She then grabbed a pair of clear plastic pants from my drawer I guess she d put them there last night.

She put my feet in them, and then told me to stand up.

When I did so, she pulled the plastic pants up my legs and over my diapers.

The double diapers and plastic pants were pretty thick but manageable.

My thoughts were racing. To my Mum, I was probably just digesting the idea of wearing a big thick double diaper.

But in my mind I was realising that I quite liked the feeling of the bulk between my legs.

Perhaps it reminded me of when I was young and carefree.

Perhaps it just gave me a feeling of security.

Perhaps (probably?!), it just felt, well, good, in places where feeling good feels, well, really good.

Here s a bra and a t-shirt honey, and here s your skirt.

I dressed myself. Looking in my mirror, I could certainly tell I was wearing a big thick diaper under my skirt, but I doubted it would be too obvious to people who weren’t looking for it.

I froze for a bit as a thought occurred to me. Mum?

Yes, Sarah?

Umm, I won’t have to wear this when we go to Dr. Shaw s right?

Honey, listen. I don t think anyone will be able to tell, and it would be much worse for you to have an accident without your diaper than to have one with a diaper on that s what they’re for right?

I guess so Mum.

At 10.15 my mum and I walked out to her mini.

I looked around but luckily there wasn’t anyone out.

My mum had a big bag with her Spare diapers, she d explained, just in case.

The walk from the car to the doctor s was both comfortable and uncomfortable I was growing accustomed to the nice soft feeling of the diapers, but also trying to walk normally, and when you re wearing two diapers it’s not straightforward.

In the waiting room, I sat blushing as a couple came in with several children. I figured no one could tell though thankfully.

Dr Shaw was of course a doctor, and doctors being doctors our 10-minute wait was more like half an hour.

Then forty minutes. I felt the pressure building up on my bladder.

Too late I realized that diapers are a mixed blessing for the accident-prone.

They contain accidents, but by forcing your legs apart they work against the muscles that stop you from peeing.

I gotta run to the bathroom Mum I gulped.

I stood up but it was too late I d taken two steps before pee poured forth, flooding my diapers.

I absolutely froze, and must ve peed for 10 seconds, although it felt like forever.

I could hear myself peeing, and I had no doubt that others could too.

This was accentuated by the fact that while my skirt hid my diaper from view when I finally took a few steps it did nothing to hide the noise of the plastic pants as I walked.

My Mum quickly realized what was happening. She stood up and grabbed my arm.

Oh Sarah, you’ve wet your diapers haven’t you?

If anyone hadn’t heard me pee or heard the rustle of my plastic pants, my Mum s question sure gave the game away.

I glanced at the stunned parents and kids in the waiting room my secret was totally revealed.

To compound matters, my Mum lifted my skirt to check the wetness indicators on the diaper, revealing my thick, now sodden diapers to all in the waiting room.

Perhaps there s some sort of deity after all because at that point the nurse came in and told us to come in as the doctor was ready.

Blushing like anything, I waddled after my Mum and the nurse into the doctor s office.

From behind me, a kid, maybe 4 years old asked Why is that lady wearing a diaper?

Diapers are for babies arent they Mummy?

I m not a baby am I Mummy?

Brilliant.

Hush, was the parent s reply, belying their own obvious curiosity.

My Mum quickly explained my situation to Dr  Shaw.

She d been our doctor since I was a kid, and I d always known her as a really kind person.

So I was a little surprised by her simple but firm reaction.

Jane, I want you to keep Sarah in diapers until she can show that she doesn’t need them.

Well, that s what I d figured Nancy replied my Mum.

No, I don t think you really understand Jane.

Doctor Shaw continued.

She has to not only be in diapers but she has to use them.

Her body has to be subject to the discomfort of a diaper (yeah, the discomfort I thought, shocking me that I was secretly enjoying the thought of being in a diaper), and the discomfort of using one.

Only that way will her body become accustomed to holding on so it doesn’t need a diaper.

With that said, the doctor took me over to the patient table, removed my skirt, and removed my diapers, plastic pants, and all.

Would you mind rinsing these plastic pants, Jane? Doctor Shaw said to my Mum.

Here are some extra thick diapers Sarah these will ensure no leaks.

She put some powder all over and lifted me in the air. Expertly, she placed the diaper under me, pulled it up between my legs and taped it in place.

My Mum then handed her the now rinsed plastic pants and she pulled them up over the diaper.

My Mum then grabbed my skirt, but as she did her nose wrinkled.

Oh, Sarah, your diaper must have leaked – you can t wear this.

Dr. Shaw quickly responded: Never mind. You re-parked in the parking lot, right?

Sarah might as well get used to people knowing about her diapers.

I stood in only my diaper, plastic pants, and t-shirt. I m supposed to go out like this?

It s only 2 minutes walk to the car park Sarah said to my Mum.

People will understand. She thanked Doctor Shaw and agreed to book a second appointment in a month s time.

Feeling utter shame I followed my mum out of the doctor’s office, wearing only my t-shirt and diaper.

The people in the waiting room stared.

Gawked.

The adults had enough social graces to quickly looked away, not really knowing where to look.

But kids are kids and made no such attempt.

They just kept looking.

To compound my shame, we had to wait a few minutes for the nurse to appear so we could pay the bill and arrange a later appointment.

Finally, we got out of the waiting room and heading back to the car.

We passed a few, obviously surprised, people, on the way to the elevator.

Once in the elevator, an old lady who obviously had no problem with addressing the issue, told my Mum that her husband needed to wear diapers, and she thought it was very smart of my mum to keep me in them too if I needed them.

No point having accidents in public she said.

My interminable, diapered walk to the car finally ended, and we drove home.

At least a month in diapers I thought. And smiled.