It wasn’t the first time, it had happened 25 years ago, it wasn’t unexpected with diabetes and high blood pressure, it wasn’t making it easier, in fact the depression seemed worse, and I needed to find an answer for him. The internet was a help, but wading through the weird stuff wasn’t easy.
Jim had been taken off of Omeprazole due to the kidney risks, and signs of inflammation in his most recent blood and ultrasound tests. The Omeprazole was the cure for GERD that had saved him from crapping his pants the last ten years, it had helped reduce the incidents of urge and stress incontinence. The need to know every bathroom in the city, to wear diapers. Now twenty years into being a diabetic the neuropathy had taken the feeling away from his bladder, He couldn’t control the dribble, but now couldn’t control the urge, and had virtually no warning. He didn’t want to give up his underwear, and I didn’t want to clean yellow stains, from his shorts and pants, nor the now more common brown smears as flatuance became messy.
I didn’t want him depressed, hurting embarrassed or stressed, but there had to be an answer. Back when he had first had a real bout with GERD he had worn adult versions of training pants, diapers and protective pants from the Sears Catalog store. That had been awful, especially going to work. For Jim all of these were very emotional, I knew he had been a bed wetter until around 14. He had had a couple of accidents in our marriage, and the diabetes caused him to get up often to pee. That was getting worse, and old as it made it hard for me to get a good night’s sleep.
We were visiting Jim’s mom for dinner, she asked how it was going. I guess I should have asked Jim, but without thought since his mom and I get along so well, I asked her if her husband had had problems like Jim was having. She looked at Jim and asked if he was wetting the bed and messing his pants, to which I had to say yes. She said her husband hadn’t had that problem, but her father had, starting around age 40. Back then it was a huge problem, with her mom ill she had had to clean up after him. She said she had made him adult training pants for the lack of another term, and adult diapers for night, did she want me to make some for Jim. I thought he was going to die, or just stay beet red forever. I thanked Karen and said not yet, we would use disposable. To make the point Jim passed wind, and it was obvious to both of us from his face it was messy; he wasn’t wearing any protection yet, so I excused us and went with him to the restroom to clean up.
Well cleaning up, I told him we needed to stop at the store on the way home. He didn’t want to but I reminded him, I did the laundry, and well the whites could be bleached, the color coordinated underwear could not. As it was we could only clean this mess so much. The defeat he had in his eyes was heart breaking. I knew I had to find a way to make it easier, and to find the right products.
To a degree the adult baby’s diaper lovers, (ABDL) and adult nursing relationship ANR community have proven to be more useful than the incontinence or medical community.
Both Jim and I are very sexual, both are OCD, and fortunately we both work from home most of the time, with mandatory travel for research. I write romance novels, and Jim writes spy and mystery novels. Together when traveling for work we make it cheap by writing travel reviews. Our work appears in various auto group and airline magazines. Jim often weaves one of my novels into his work which is fun for both our fans. The work pays well, but we are not of the top tier level writers, but were not down at the Harlequin level either.
Online research led me to the ABDL community and more importantly to the ANR community. Jim is mostly an ass man, but he has always loved sucking on my breasts, and I get amped up and can have an orgasm just from having my breast sucked on. It’s a different orgasm than having him lick me, or penetrate me, but is powerful just as much. Reading posts I decided to try and use my breasts to make the diaper experience more comfortable. It would do so much more than that. It would improve an already great bond. It would give me more sex and orgasms than I had had in years, and would help make the move back into diapers easier for Jim.
On the trip home from his mother’s house, despite his complaints of being messy, and sticky from his slimy farts, we stopped and picked up adult briefs, and diapers. The pullups would be good for daytime keeping his clothing clean, and reducing laundry, he could wear his BVDs over them, and night time would be a diaper and cover. Blood pressure wise his doctors wanted him to sleep more, and my doctor wanted me to sleep more. We were going to use sleep masks, Ambien if needed and something I hadn’t heard of before suppositories for Jim.
The adult briefs were to keep the clothing clean since Jim had a lot of gas, and with the GERD wasn’t sure what was going to happen when he did. With the briefs he could go to the restroom whenever he felt the need, and of course before we left somewhere that had a potty. I wasn’t about to suggest he use them if he could avoid it. Neither of us wants diaper play, we just are working to make it our new normal, because at the moment there aren’t safe alternatives and I want to keep his mind safe.
The night time diaper was a different issue. Doctor K made it clear he didn’t want Jim getting out of bed once he was there. He wanted 8.5 hours of uninterrupted sleep for me and the same for by definition for Jim. Caffeine and other stimulants were out for both of us. Our writing schedule would have to be better managed without the mermaid and bull. The big issue was the constipation vs. diarrhea from the GERD. Thus the suppository, the doctor wanted Jim to develop a potty time (my words not the doctors, I can’t help calling it the potty now). We had set a bedtime of 10pm. If Jim hadn’t gone to the potty by then, I was to use the suppository and Ambien, diaper him up and go to bed). He was not to get out of bed for any reason but an non bladder bowel emergency until 8:30 AM. The suppository was slow acting and shouldn’t be a problem. It didn’t work that way. Jim acts as though he is on fire if there is any mess in his pants. He hates being wet, messy is so much worse. But if he was going to live into his 50’s some changes in sleep and meds were needed and the penalties are what they are.
I asked the doctor what I do if he messes and it’s not 8:30 yet. His answer was cuddle him, make him go back to sleep; reward him some way if he does. That is where the ANR community helped, but the effect was unpredicted. When Jim woke messy he started to get up (did get up) waking me, and I had to force him back to bed messy as it was early. Neither of us was going to be able to get back to sleep. The way he smelled I really didn’t want him back in bed, but we decided to play along. His grandfather had died at fifty five with very much the same maladies. Well five years younger he didn’t want to push his luck. I called him back to bed, dropped my nightgown and had him suckle my breast. At first he was timid, but well I don’t know why but once I orgasmed quickly he took it as a game. He likes be to be a moaner. He went to work. At the five minute mark, as one of the ANR articles had said, I moved him to the other side and gave him my left breast. He went back to work. Three orgasms later I couldn’t smell him. At five minutes I stopped him. He didn’t want to stop, and moved to my lower area, and continued until I begged him to stop. Exhausted I cuddled him and we fell back to sleep.
At 9am we woke, he was still messy, smelly, but we could get up. We went to the bathroom and he stripped into a garbage bag in the shower. I put gloves on, wrapped it up, and heated the water, we showered together cleaning, and taking our morning pee. He had been so good to me, that once he was clean I turned around put my hands against the shower wall, and let him take me from behind, as I said he’s an ass man (we don’t use my butt that way). Little did I know this would set a pattern that would build both acceptance and even desire for both of us.
Getting out of the shower, I put him in a pullup brief. He complained about a waste of money since he didn’t need it, I reminded him we could afford it, and if he was worried we could have his mother make some but he would need water proof pants. He took the pullups and underwear. We went off to breakfast. The pants would stay clean most of the day, he would use the potty often, but ultimately it would turn out good he had them on. Following the ANR guidelines I nursed him at lunch before serving him a regular adult lunch. He immediately took the challenge to make me orgasm. He won.
In our careers and with our deadlines it turns out, and as a romance writer I hate to say this that our intimacy had suffered. That and with the impact of diabetes and heart risk his ability to play had been reduced. Fortunately Jim likes to see me cum, and loves oral sex. We had ignored the breasts, and now it was like a new toy to both of us. He stressed when he messed, so I gave him my breast if I could be we in a family restroom, our expedition van, changing or at home. I started to associate that smell with an great breast action. When he fluffied, (farted) I would check his pants to see if needed care. After a change If it was a little messy I would help him clean up and give him a hand job. If we showered he would be me from behind. He started to worry less, but he still hates the feeling, and staying in bed wet or messy is still hard, but he immediately wants his nursing time. He now gets nursed on a schedule of four times a day. I should note that was good for about a week and then I was sore. I don’t produce milk. I tried giving him a pacifier, and a bottle to buy some time for my breast and nipples to heal, but I craved the orgasm so much that I had to mix them both in. Jim didn’t go for the bottle, but the pacifier did work. I was able to find one big enough through the ABDL community. (We don’t have children it never fit in, nor have I felt the need, so I don’t produce milk, and don’t have any plans to do so).
Surprisingly despite the prescription of the suppository, doctor K knowing Jim’s history of incontinence, the first trip back to the doctor was terrifying for him. I usually have to check to make sure he has his pullups on, he still doesn’t like going out in them despite the half dozen or more times they have already saved him humiliation in the first few weeks of this new reality. The visit to the doctor was no different. I patted his but as we were getting the keys getting ready to go out the door. He didn’t have his protection on and I asked him where it was. He said he didn’t need it for the doctor’s office, it would embarrass him when he had to undress. Should he leave it on, or take it off. I said silly they want you to have it on, since you don’t have full control. I don’t want to wear it. I replied I am pretty sure if I tell doctor K’s Nurse Margaret that you didn’t wear your diaper she will put one on you to protect the examining room. He didn’t question the logic of my statement and just went back and complied. The long wait in the office and a couple of fluffies would prove the logic of wearing the garment. When the doctor performed the digital exam to verify the suppository was not causing and issue, he did so moving a messy, sticky pullup. (Digital exam is a finger up the butt). As it turned out doctor K asked Margaret to get Jim a diaper change, when she came back I told her I had a fresh pullup and would help change him when we were done. For the next 10 minutes of the exam he sat ready to jump out of his skin in his messy pants. Of course there was no way I could nurse him, though I desperately wanted to for both his sake and mine. I cleaned and changed him, and as we left I sent him to the boys room to make sure his bladder was empty. He was nursed in the parking lot in the van, with the shades closed, We both felt better. I love Jim with all my heart and will do whatever it takes for him to know that this problem well not fun doesn’t make me think less of him as a man, or diminish how much I want to be with him.
We are still learning to deal with this at home and out and about. We haven’t gotten the regular bowel movement time issue worked out. We are sleeping better, and I don’t always have to give Jim the Ambien when using the suppository. He doesn’t like waking up messy or wet any more now than before, but he is accepting.
We have a trip coming up to Asia to do research for a set of books each of us is writing. We like to find some architectural oddity or local story to weave into the stories, our readers are amazed when they visit the sight and find the clue, see the item we called out. It’ lights up the blog and drives sales. Of course we also get comp’d and paid for our travel articles so that is great as well. We don’t know how were going to travel with this, or how the culture differences will affect what we do. Jim is terrified of messing on a 16 hour flight or going through security and customs. How will our hosts in Phuket feel about it, should we take pads, or ask for a plastic sheet?
That is a work in progress.