My Early Life part two - A true story.


Est. Contributor
Adult Baby, Little, Incontinent
[FONT=&quot]My Early Life, Part two – a True story.[/FONT][FONT=&quot] [/FONT]

February 1970, I had just been placed in a children’s home in Wellington, Shropshire (UK). Having had a fairly traumatic and eventful 3 months or so, I was not really prepared to be thrust into a house with about 16 other children and anywhere up to 8 adults.

My wetting and soiling hadn’t improved at all, and the only family that had accepted me for me was a long way away. My court appointed social worker (Mike) drove me from the court in Bridgenorth to the home. He was quite chatty on the short journey, telling me what I could expect when I got there, I wasn’t really listening, I’d lost my parents, my home, my one set of relatives that seemed to care for me, and the set of relatives that couldn’t wait to get rid of me.

We arrived at the children’s home (Highfield House) about 4pm and I was introduced to the Matron, Aunty Joan (I should explain that all the staff was either Aunty or Uncle but none of them were relations). That was my first shock, Joan was a somewhat plump lady but more to my surprise her and her Husband, Harry (the superintendent of the home) came from Bingley, which is about 6 or 7 miles from where I was born and raised.

Joan asked me a few basic questions, showed me where I would be sleeping (with 7 other boys), asked me if I wore vests (under-shirt) and then told me to say goodbye to Mike as it was tea-time. This I did, and Joan then took me through to the dining room, I was introduced to another member of staff (Aunty Helen) and sat at a table with 5 other children all my age or younger, I can’t honestly remember what we ate that night, but I can remember being bombarded with questions about who I was, where was I from, why was I there, I tried to explain, but rapidly got tongue tied as I wasn’t used to dealing with so many people at once.

Normally after tea various jobs (chores) had to be done by everyone, but because I was new I was taken to the quite room (a room for reading or listening to the radio or watching TV) by Helen for a talk about me, and the home and a general tour so I could find my bedroom, the bathroom, toilets etc. Whilst we were upstairs she suggested it would be a good idea if we put my clothes away (we all had our own wardrobes and drawers), it was while we were doing this I wet myself. Helen noticed and asked if I had a problem, but before I could answer she explained that there were 2 or 3 others at the home (1 boy and 2 girls) that had a bed wetting problem and that David also wet during the day. I denied having a problem, despite the obvious evidence and Helen again asked if I was sure.

I again denied that I had a problem and Helen seemed satisfied, she did however tell me I would have to have a supervised bath and have my hair washed, (it was a hygiene check, as well as a check for bruises etc., but I didn’t know that at the time. All new arrivals had it done). So she took me to the bathroom and started running a bath, at the same time as telling me to undress. I was very embarrassed, as apart from family I hadn’t undressed in front of a woman for a long time.

When I was in the bath, Helen took my clothes for wash; she also said all my clothes would be marked with my name so they wouldn’t get mixed up with anyone else’s. When Helen came back, she started to wash me, when I complained, she explained that everybody had to be bathed by a staff member on their first night, and I had arrived on a night when there were no male staff members available. (There was always at least one female member of staff on duty).

She finished washing me and then washed my hair (which I actually enjoyed), she then left me to get myself dry, whilst she went to sort out some clean clothes and a set of pyjamas for me for later. When I went back to the bedroom, wrapped in a bath towel, Helen was just remaking my bed, when I asked her why she said that as I had, had a little accident she had put a rubber sheet on the bed just in case I had an accident while I was sleeping.

She also explained about my bedtime (915pm) and explained that as I got older my bedtime would get later, If I wanted to read in bed there was a 15 minute limit before lights out, but I could go to bed early and read until my normal lights out time if I wanted to. She also told me that as I had had a bath that I could go downstairs in my pj’s and a dressing gown (which she gave me) or get dressed. I chose to get dressed, as I was still feeling very uncomfortable. I went down and sat in the quite room and then found a book to read so decided to go back upstairs to bed to read. So passed the first evening at Highfield House.

Highfield used to be a private house; there were numerous bedrooms for staff as well as the children. There was also a large paddock with swings, a see saw, sand pit, a log cabin (child sized) and several climbable trees. There were then three main dormitories and a small single room, I was in the big boys bedroom (that’s what is was called) which had 8 boys ranging in age from 10 to 14 (me), there was bedroom with 4 beds from age 9 down to about 3 (little David – we had two David’s) and the girls bedroom which had six beds but only 4 were in use then (all the girls regardless of age went in here).

I think I fell asleep fairly early that night, I can remember Joan coming up and switching my light off, and not much else until about 2pm when I woke up crying in a very wet bed, I‘d had a bad dream or nightmare and had been shouting in my sleep so one of the boys had gone to get a member of staff up.

Helen came into the bedroom in her night dress and night gown and sat with me whilst I calmed down, she also noticed that I had wet the bed, so sent me off for a bath, whilst she changed my bed, (fortunately because of the plastic sheet, it was just the sheets and not the mattress, by the time I had cleaned myself up I was a little calmer, and went back into the bedroom. Helen stayed with for what seemed like an age, but was probably only 15 or 20 minutes, just talking to me and touching my head or hand as she did, she also told me that if I woke up wet, that I was to have a bath before breakfast and take all my wet things down to the laundry room, and that a staff member would make my bed up for me.

Just before she left Helen tucked me in and said goodnight and made sure the other boys had settled. Needless to say the next morning I needed a bath, and then had to make what seemed like a long walk to the laundry room with wet sheets and blankets and pj’s, expecting to be told off or punished as well as expecting to be teased by the other kids.

The kids didn’t bat an eyelid, and when I got to the laundry room it was obvious that at least two other people had woke up wet, although one of them wore nappies. Helen and Joan were both on duty that morning (when I first went to Highfield we didn’t have a cook so the staff made the meals). Breakfast was cereal, cold milk, scrambled egg on toast, toast or bread and marmalade and tea. (Most breakfast’s were similar, but did change on a day to day to basis, as did the other meals).

I was again sat at the same table, so at least I knew some of the faces. After breakfast there were the normal chores to be done, and then most of the children left for various local schools. I was told to go and wait outside the office and that I would be seen in a few minutes. At this point I assumed I was going to be punished for wetting the bed, and waited nervously outside the office for about 10 minutes. Eventually the door opened and I was faced by a man who introduced himself as Harry, he invited me in and asked me to sit down, instead of the punishment I was expecting he wanted to talk about me, explain some of the rules of the home, explained about pocket money and things like that.

Then out of the blue he asked me about my bed wetting, explaining that if I did have a problem they needed to be aware so that they could help me, especially as the home were due to go holiday shortly, and needed to know who could have sleeping bags and who couldn’t (bed wetter’s didn’t get sleeping bags).

It was the matter of fact way that he dealt with it that led me to admit that I did have a little problem, but my Aunty Ann had considered it dirty and wrong. Harry explained that the home was run as much as possible as a family, with everyone helping and that there were two or three children that had problems and that nobody teased them and that neither were they punished, for my part, I had to take my laundry down, make sure I had a bath, and if I needed any help to ask a member of staff.

I still hadn’t admitted that I had daytime problems as well. Harry also spoke to me about school and asked me if I wanted to go to a local school, as I wanted to go to catering college I agreed and Harry said he would make an appointment with the headmaster later.

I was then told to go to the dining room and find Helen or Joan and see if they had any jobs for me. As I was walking to the dining room I wet and soiled myself, the first thing I did was to burst into tears; the second thing I did was to panic. I ran through the kitchen, out into the paddock and into the log cabin, it was dark and I didn’t think I would be found, at that point in my life I really felt alone and betrayed, I felt I was worthless and different and seriously thought about killing myself, whilst all these thoughts were going through my head I became aware of voices calling my name, instead of answering I tried to curl up into an even smaller ball, and started sucking my thumb (something I still do today if I am very tired).

After about 5 minutes Helen found me, and came into the log cabin to get me, I tried to push her off, but just ended up crying more and more uncontrollably and sobbing almost hysterically, she left me for a few minutes, I think to say she had found me, then came back into the log cabin with a blanket, which she slowly wrapped around me, and then just held onto me, telling me to hush and that everything would be all right. After I had calmed down she unwrapped the blanket from around me, took my hand and led me back to the house.

Once we got there, she took me upstairs to the bathroom, undressed me and then proceeded to start to wash me, I just stood there, still softly sobbing, whilst she was cleaning me up she talked about the other children who had problems and that they were used to dealing with all sorts of things and that it didn’t matter, but that I mustn’t be a silly child and try to run away as that worried the staff. She also told me (again) that if I did have a problem or an accident I just needed to let a member of staff know, and that they would try to help me. She then questioned me about my bed wetting and wanted to know how long I had been having day time accidents, “had it started after my parents were killed?”

I don’t know what it was, I know that I got this strange feeling of what can best be described as mother love from Helen and slowly and stumblingly the entire story came out, how I had always wet and soiled myself, but that I was told I would grow out of it, but at nearly 14 it didn’t look as if it would.

Helen explained that she would have to tell Joan and Harry about what I had said, and that I shouldn’t worry, as they wouldn’t be angry. She then ran a bath for me and told me to have a bath whilst she went downstairs. She came back about 15 minutes later and left a pair of pj’s and a dressing gown for me and told me to put them on when I had finished and then come down to the quite room. Once I was dressed I went downstairs to find both Helen and Joan in the quite room waiting for me. Helen explained that she had told Joan about my problem and they both wanted to talk to me about it, and about what they could do to help.

That little talk lasted about an hour and a half, they explained simply that I couldn’t be allowed to wet or soil my clothes and myself especially as I was going back to school. They also explained that as we would be going on holiday soon they had to decide if I could be taken or would have to be transferred to another home for a little while.

At that point I started crying again, and explained that I didn’t want to go somewhere else, that I wanted to stay here. They explained that if I really wanted to stay I would have to let them help me. I would also have to trust them to know what was best for me. Joan then left the room saying she would be back in a few minutes. Helen explained that she was going to be my key worker (basically my ‘special’ member of staff, who I could go to at any time for a chat or if I was upset or angry or if I had an accident, this also meant whilst Helen was off duty (providing she was in the house).

At that point Joan came back into the room and passed me a box and asked me to look in it, and try not to be upset. What was in the box was a large nappy and an even larger pair of what looked like rubber pants (actually Vinyl). I started crying again, saying that I wasn’t a baby. Helen and Joan both assured me that they knew I wasn’t, but they also knew that I was a teenager with problems and that this could help me either get over them or cope with them.

They also told me that there were two others in the home who wore nappies and pants, little David was one of them (the three year old) and the other was Denise (Dizzy), who was only a year younger than I was. They went on to explain that if I agreed, initially I would have to go to a member of staff to be changed, but as I learnt to do it myself properly, that would stop, and I would do everything for myself.

Eventually I agreed to a trial period. Helen suggested that we start straight away and asked me to go to my bedroom and wait for her. When she came up she brought a supply of nappies, pins, talc and cream as well as a few pairs of the vinyl pants. She explained that the nappies and other things would be kept in a separate cupboard that I would have a key for, so that when I started to change myself I could get things out as and when I needed them.

She then asked me to undress and to lie down on my bed, which I slowly did, trying not to let her see my genitals(some hope), she asked me to lift my bottom (bum) up and slipped the nappy underneath me, she then asked if I preferred cream or talc, I said that I didn’t know but that my Aunty Kath used cream on me, so Helen carefully creamed what she called “my important little places” (a phrase I still use today), she also pointed out that I was obviously starting to grow up as I had some hair (I went bright red at this), but that I might want to think about shaving it off to make nappy changes easier, whilst she was doing all this she finished creaming me and started to explain what she was doing so that I could learn to do it for myself.

Once she had fastened the nappy she asked me to get up, and then helped me step into the pants, she let me pull them up myself but then spent a few minutes making sure the nappy was tucked in, whilst telling me how important it was and why. She then suggested that I go to bed until dinnertime, as it had been a busy morning. I did and to my surprise fell asleep. Joan came to wake me up and also asked me if I need a change, I said I didn’t think so, but couldn’t really tell, so Joan asked me to stand up and slipped a couple of fingers just inside my nappy, and then told me I was OK and to get dressed and to come down to dinner.

Dinner was a quite affair with Joan, Harry, Helen, myself and a member of staff I had not met before called Stan. Conversation was fairly limited as I was very aware of what I was wearing and didn’t want either of the two men to know (They did!). Harry told me that I would be seeing the headmaster tomorrow for an interview and not to worry as I would be in the same class as Dizzy and there wouldn’t be a problem, that slightly reassured me but also upset me as it meant at least Harry knew what I was wearing, and at that point in my life the male role models I had, had, hadn’t been very good.

I could go on at great length about my time at Highfield, in many respects it was one of the happiest times in my life. It wasn’t all good, I can remember on holiday where one of the kids had dared me not to wear my nappy. We went out in our minibus to a fairground, on the way I wet myself and soiled myself, and the bus seat, Joan was furious and decided if I wanted to behave like a silly little boy, she would treat like one.

When we went away it was usual for the younger kids to be allocated to a female member of staff, who made sure they drank, ate, went to the toilet, didn’t get into mischief etc. I got allocated to Joan. Of course we didn’t have any spare clothes on the bus (well not for me anyway, we did have for Little David and a young girl called Caroline who also wet herself, fortunately I had on a fairly long t shirt.

Joan put me in a nappy and a pair of pants and then treated me exactly as she treated David for the rest of the day. I did eventually learn to put a nappy on myself that didn’t either fall on the floor when I stood up or leaked everywhere, but occasionally, especially if I was feeling a bit down I would go to my Aunty Helen and ask her to change me, she always did, and was always gentle,[/FONT][FONT=&quot][/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]After that first summer at Highfield it was obvious that whatever was happening with me, that I wasn’t going to stop wetting and soiling ( the Psychiatrist I had been seeing told them it was probably a simple form of regression caused by all the trauma and in a few months I'd revert back to 'normal'). So it was decided I needed to be seen by the homes GP, I'd already met him, as all the kids all had medicals within the first few weeks of arriving). He did a very simple but embarrassing and frightening test and referred me to a hospital consultant; they did yet more frightening and painful tests and referred me to yet another consultant who did different and frightening tests. The result of all this was surgery. They had found that I had a congenital problem and that I wasn't receiving any of the normal signals that tell your body you need to go, so my body was voiding when it needed to. They also found some damage that could only have been caused by some form of trauma or abuse (that eventually led me to be in a psychiatric ward on suicide watch). The first round of surgery was on my colon and with a lot of help from physios in hospital and even more help and patience from Helen and other staff I stopped soiling during the day within about 8 weeks and at night after about 12 weeks. The 2nd round of surgery was on my urethra and bladder but wasn't successful, it actually made the urinary incontinence worse as it left me with a permanent dribble. So I had to have more surgery once that healed, that was a lot more successful but left me with urge incontinence, basically once I feel I need to wee, I need to find a toilet very quickly. However the last 10 years has seen that become more of a problem due to other health matters and following a recent reassessment it looks like I shall have to go back to wearing nappies instead of the pads I have been using (that’s the clothes problem I was referring to).

I still see Helen occasionally; she still lives in Wellington as does my wife’s parents. We talk about the old times and things we did, and catch up on what different kids are doing now (we are all grown up). Helen is now married and has three boys of her own, but I still get that motherly caring feeling off her. She was very much a mother to me, as Harry became a true Father figure to me. When he died I lost a very good and dear friend.

Highfield was very good for me it completed something that my Aunty Kath had started the first time she lovingly put me in a nappy, I realised that it wasn’t wrong or dirty, that I was normal, but more importantly that I could be accepted as me, problems and all, Aunty Kath, Helen, and the other staff at Highfield gave me the love and support that I should have got from my parents.

There will be a part three, detailing my life with my wife, what happened after she died and brought right up to date.


Est. Contributor
Adult Baby, Diaper Lover, Sissy, Little, Incontinent
unbelievable and interesting story but also very sad. I look very forward to part three. Or did I not found it? I had very similar experiences ... if my English would be better I could take a try. All the best to you