I came out to my wife about wearing diapers before I got caught, because I knew that at some point, I was going to get caught, and I wanted it to happen on my own terms. That worked out pretty well, all told - it could have gone much worse than it did. I did have a moment of being "caught" by her, though, after that, when I was working up in my office in a pink diaper, I think it was a Rearz Princess Pink or Lil' Bella, something like that, because I thought she'd left the house for the day, but then she came back... and made a bee line straight to my office, because she'd forgotten to print something. In my new house, my office is above the garage and requires a walk outdoors to get to, so I always have backup pants or shorts with me if I'm lounging around in a diaper, but in my old house, my office was down the hall from our bedroom, so I didn't necessarily have a "crash outfit" readily at hand, as if someone came to the door, it was a short dash to the bedroom. So, the front door opened, and then she was thump-thump-thumping up the stairs... and the there she was, and there I was, still sitting in my office chair. She'd seen me in white diapers plenty of times by that point, and some printed diapers, but nothing quite that "baby girl."
So, of course, then the printer jams and I have to get up and walk over to it, and abandon all cover, and chat with her and tinker with the paper feeder. She didn't say anything... maybe once we'd crossed the "my husband wears diapers" line, "specifically which diapers" became irrelevant, sort of like "I was hit by a truck" versus "I was hit by a pink truck." It's the "truck" part that counts.
Other than that, the only other instance of being "caught" by anyone significant was when my stepfather found my stash of homemade diapers under my dresser when I was 13, and he yelled at me in front of my family while waving one of them around. After that, I abandoned "this" for over 20 years!