Laetitia (updated January 21 2024) -- (Author) Laetitia20012003

[llsadmin]

############################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################
Author: Laetitia20012003
Timestamp: Jun 23, 2022 at 9:12 PM
Content: Hello everybody,
I'm Laetitia, from France.
Sorry for my awful English. I usualy don't use automatic translator except when I miss vocabulary. Then forgive "my french accent" please.
I read a number of stories, and given the talent of some of the authors, it seemed to me that my story could be an inspiration. Except for my name, all the others have been changed for privacy reasons...

Prolog :

I was born on September 15 in perfect health to the great joy of my parents. I don't remember much about my early years except that I was "cute but mischievous". Every morning my mother drove me to my grandparents' house where I spent the day while my parents worked. In the evening, Mom would pick me up. However, sometimes Dad would join us for dinner with Grandma and Grandpa.

If I walked quite late (I was a little less than two years old), at four months I pronounced my first words ("meh'-meh'" for "mom" and "peh'-peh'" for "dad").
The fact that my grandmother gave piano lessons at home was certainly a factor in my early love of music (especially classical). I used to spend hours under the living room table listening to the students and my grandmother. I often hummed the melodies and was able to say the names of the notes "Do; Ré; Mi; Fa; etc. ("C; D; E; F; etc." in English) before making intelligible sentences. The only difficult moments were when my grandmother interrupted the lesson to change me. I thought there was no hurry, but grandma didn't think so...

The situation improved significantly once I had control of my bowels. However, I continued to wear diapers because I didn't have control of my bladder. I was so focused on piano lessons that I held back until my bladder gave out. I quickly got to the point where I didn't feel the need to urinate. It was happening without me even realizing it...
From the age of two and a half or three, I started to have more and more leaks despite the progress that diapers had made in France (we are in the early 1980s). I think I remember that I was wearing "Peaudouce" diapers. My grandmother used to put me in a plastic panty with snaps and a straight diaper over my "Peaudouce". When there were relatively few students, she changed me regularly. On Wednesdays, however, classes went on forever because the children did not have school. That day, my grandmother often forgot my presence and the leaks were frequent (not to say systematic)...
To prevent the carpet under the living room table from being stained, my grandmother had put down an absorbent sheet.

At night, I didn't wake up and every morning my diaper was wet.
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Don't hesitate to advise me because this is my first time writing, and in English, the exercise is particularly difficult.

############################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################
Author: Laetitia20012003
Timestamp: Jun 25, 2022 at 5:12 AM
Content: Chapter 1: Four years old - The difficult potty training.

"Laetitia, you are a big girl now. Next year you'll be going to kindergarten and you'll have to use the bathroom."

I looked at Mom not really understanding what she was saying. At three and a half years old, I was still not potty trained. Sure, I was asking for the potty for the big one, but I didn't seem to care about peeing in my panties. It must be said that diapers were not easy to take off and even harder to put on. It was usually mom, grandma or my nanny who changed me.

So Mom decided that I would wear more practical underwear. The few times Mom didn't put a diaper on me ended in disaster. She had been making regular attempts to leave me unprotected for six months. But nothing worked. Whether I was standing, sitting, lying down, playing or drawing, I was wetting my pants within a half hour at best. My bladder would empty even when I was walking or running.

Grandma had alerted Mom for some time because there were no warning signs. Not the slightest twitch on my face, not the slightest "pee dance". My bladder was emptying without warning. Needless to say, as soon as the games got more boisterous, as soon as I was tickled, a halo would immediately appear.

This was really problematic because I only reacted when I got wet, never before.

The pediatrician prescribed a series of tests, the results of which were rather mixed. My bladder and sphincters were functioning perfectly, my pelvic floor was toned, but it seemed that my brain didn't know how to "decode" the messages from my spontaneously emptying bladder.

The pediatrician was reluctant to attempt any kind of surgery at my age and very quickly stopped all medication because I couldn't stand them...

"Laetitia's sphincters are at risk of atrophying if they are not stimulated daily. Whenever you have the opportunity, do not put a diaper on her" said the doctor.

"On the other hand, don't humiliate her or make her feel guilty. If you have no other choice, put her in a diaper only in exceptional cases because she won't be able to put them on or take them off easily. Prefer cellulose diapers in a plastic panty that she can put on and take off herself."

"For nighttime, it's different. until five or six years old, there's not much to worry about."

So when I was at home, Mom or Dad would sit me on the potty every hour. Even so, there were rarely days without accidents.

When my parents went to work, Grandma took over. Unfortunately, she couldn't interrupt her work that often. She did try to put me in a pair of cotton panties with a thick straight diaper, but soon the cotton panties were replaced by a much tighter plastic one.

On my side, I was mortified at each accident even if neither my parents nor my grandparents ever made any reproach or remark.

As far as I remember, I had "forgotten" the feeling of having to pee. However, a few weeks before my 4th birthday (I was about to start kindergarten), I started to feel a pressure in my lower abdomen just before peeing. I immediately told my grandmother who rewarded me with a cake.

When I started kindergarten, I was one of the few students who wore a full diaper to school. In agreement with the teachers and the pediatrician, it was agreed that, at the beginning, I would only go in the morning on Monday and Tuesday, and in the afternoon on Thursday and Friday. This way, the remaining half day allowed my grandparents to help me progress.

My progress was slow, but it was nonetheless real. By the end of the school year, I had learned to change on my own because the plastic panties fit like normal panties. I would spontaneously go to the bathroom whenever I felt the need to urinate, but I was always too late.

When I started second grade in kindergarten, I made it to the bathroom on time as soon as I felt the urge to pee, as long as I stopped all activity immediately. The slightest delay was an accident (2 or 3 times a day anyway). So I always wore diapers and plastic pants (pull-ups did not exist yet). The other kids started to make fun of me, even though the teacher immediately put a stop to it.

Things got more complicated when I started first grade. At six years old, I was the only one I knew who wore diapers during the day. Despite my obvious progress, there were few days without an accident. However, I was completely autonomous and my only privilege was to be able to go to the infirmary where my diapers and a change of clothes were stored to go to the bathroom. This pass included the right to be absent in the middle of any class, except for a quiz. On those days, the nurse would put a full change of clothes on me, or, if the test was first thing in the morning, Mom would put it on me before I left for school.

I was a good student, rather shy. I didn't have any friends because none of my classmates wanted a girl who wore diapers like a baby.

To my parents' dismay, the pediatrician kept postponing surgery because of its irreversibility and especially because of my continuous progress. In fact, I was able to hold it in longer and longer, and the accidents became less frequent. At first only one a day, then only 2 or 3 a week.

By the time I was seven, I had almost no accidents during the day (but I still wore diapers just in case), and by the time I was eight, I was completely potty trained during the day.

As for the night, I don't remember having had one dry one since I was born...

############################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################
Author: Laetitia20012003
Timestamp: Jun 25, 2022 at 7:20 AM
Content: Thank you for your comment. People, as kids as adults usualy are afraid seeing someone different. But you will see there always are exceptions. I had (and I still have)friends lol...

Please help me if you see mistakes (orthograph, grammar, etc.)

############################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################
Author: Laetitia20012003
Timestamp: Jun 25, 2022 at 7:02 PM
Content:

ThatGuyFromThatThread said:

I'd have done it like that.

I noticed that lots of people use "lol" like its a laugh, rather than an acronym, like it used to be, so I'm never sure how to punctuate or space it. Most people don't double space it, after a period, either way.

[End of quote]

Thank you for the feedback.

############################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################
Author: Laetitia20012003
Timestamp: Jun 25, 2022 at 9:42 PM
Content: Chapter 2: Six years old - Bénédicte - Part one

I said in the previous chapter that I didn't have any friends because no one wanted to hang out with a girl who wears diapers like a baby. That's not quite true...

At the beginning of the second quarter of first grade, while I was sitting alone in my corner, during a recess, a girl approached me. It was a "big girl from third grade"...

Used to being teased, I pretended not to see her, absorbed as I was by a nest of ants.

After a few moments spent near me in silence, she gently touched my shoulder, which made me jump. I felt so bad, I was so afraid of being attacked, humiliated because of my diapers that my bladder emptied completely. I was only wearing a straight diaper in a plastic panty and because of the amount of flow, I had a massive leak. Within seconds, my jeans were soaked through my crotch and I was bursting into tears, certain that I was going to be the laughing stock once again...

Instead of bursting into laughter and calling loudly for the others, she simply took me by the hand.

"Come on," she said, pulling me gently.

When we got to the infirmary, the nurse saw my condition and immediately took us in.

"Laetitia! What happened? You're soaked, honey!"

The girl said softly, almost whispering, "Don't scold her, it's my fault. Laetitia didn't see me approach her and panicked when I touched her shoulder to get her attention."

The nurse, who was not born yesterday looked at the girl sternly, then, turning to me, asked, "Is that true?"

Still in tears, I could only nod my head in assent.

"If she was laughing at you, just say it straight out, honey." She gives another dark look to the girl who obviously didn't expect this reaction from the nurse and simply bowed her head with a slight shriek.

Seeing the dismay of this girl who had done nothing wrong to me, I found the strength to say that it was the strict truth.

"Sit down there Bénédicte and wait for me" said the nurse pointing to a chair while she took me to the next room...

"Laetitia, I know you're not going to like it, but I'm going to put on you one of your overnight diaper" says Madame Verrière (the nurse). You've had a big emotional outburst and I suspect it's going to interfere with what little control you have over your bladder. I don't think another accident would be welcome today. I know you can't change this diaper by yourself, but trust me, it's for the best. Come back to me as soon as you feel wet."

I didn't say anything despite my frustration. I knew Ms. Verrière is right. And then I felt humiliated enough to risk another accident in front of comrades who were certainly less discreet and understanding than Bénédicte...

"Talk to me frankly sweetie, did Benedicte make fun of you?" asked Madame Verrière while she put a fresh diaper on me, and a plastic panty lined with a cellulose diaper.

"No, Madame, I just saw her approaching me. I thought this third grade girl was coming to make fun of me, so I pretended I didn't see her and just flinched when she touched my shoulder," I replied as my tears started to flow again. "that's when I..., when I..."

Ms. Verrière just put her finger on my mouth to shut me up. "It's okay," she said, "it was just an accident. It's not your fault, and it's not her fault."

Back in the room where Bénédicte was waiting for us quite worried about her fate, I must admit, Madame Verrière gave her a beautiful smile. "Everything is fine Bénédicte, you did well to bring me Laetitia. Do you think one of her classmates saw that she got wet?"

"No ma'am" replied Bénédicte "I drove her straight here before anyone noticed anything."

"Then everything is fine, go back to class both of you" replied Madame Verrière, handing us each a paper excusing our delay...

As we walked back to our respective classes together, I asked Benedictine why Madame Verrière seemed to know her.

"It's because I'm a real tomboy," she said half laughing. "There isn't a week that goes by that I don't have a sore or a bump that needs to be taken care of."

We had almost reached my classroom when Bénédicte grabbed my arm, forcing me to stop.
"You know Laetitia, I would never have made fun of you because of your diapers," she said, looking me straight in the eye.

"Then why did you approach me?" I asked, incredulous, as I held her gaze.

"I'll explain later. right now we have to get back to class. We're late enough as it is."
That said, she gave me a big kiss on the cheek and I felt almost immediately that all-too-familiar wave of warmth invade my diaper...

Without another word, Bénédicte continued on her way, leaving me completely stunned. It tooks me a few more seconds to come to my senses and knock on my classroom door...

############################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################
Author: Laetitia20012003
Timestamp: Jun 27, 2022 at 12:40 PM
Content: Chapter 3: Bénédicte - Part 2

Just before going to eat at the canteen, I went to the infirmary to be changed. Despite my displeasure, Madame Verrière gave me one of my diapers for the night.

As usual, finding a place to sit was an uphill battle. No one wanted me next to him or her. If I insisted, I was entitled to charming reflections such as :

"Go pee somewhere else!"

or even

"babies eat with kindergarteners!"

I was used to it by now and it didn't affect me as much as it did at the beginning of the school year. Meanwhile, I had to find a place to eat....

That's when I saw Bénédicte waving to me that there was a free seat in front of her.

Not having much choice, I settled down and started to eat, avoiding any contact, even visual, with Bénédicte.

After a while she broke the silence:

- "Are you okay?"

-"Yes."
I would have preferred to eat alone and run away from this canteen buzzing with multiple conversations, but the question didn't seem to contain the slightest mockery, the slightest aggression.

- "I'm sorry about earlier, I just wanted to talk to you, not scare you."

- "It's okay, let's not talk about it." And I plunged my nose back into my plate.

- "Yes, let's talk about it instead. You're like a celebrity around the school. Your classmate, Claire B..., has a brother who is in my class and has been telling everyone about you. For a day or two, you were the center of conversation and a number of my classmates decided to see if you were really wearing diapers during the day. I wanted to warn you, because I don't agree with doing that to you. I know you have no choice but to wear diapers."

- "Why did you warn me?" I asked. "You might get in trouble if this gets out."

-"Don't worry about me, I know how to defend myself, and I also had problems with my classmates because of the diapers. But as I hit harder, they quickly left me alone."

I looked at Bénédicte, dumbfounded, without daring to ask her any more questions.
Guessing my thoughts, she continued:
- "I don't wear a diaper if that's what you're asking. I don't even wet the bed."

I didn't understand anything anymore. Why did she get in trouble for wearing diapers when she didn't even wear them at night? My curiosity was stronger than my shyness.

- "So why did you get in trouble for diapers if you don't wear them?"

Her face darkened and she simply said, "My sister."

As we finished eating, she got up and went out to wait for class to resume. Instinctively, I followed her...

Bénédicte took me by the hand and led me to a secluded, quieter corner of the playground.

-"My older sister has had cerebral palsy since birth."

Bénédicte then told me the story of her sister, Laurence. She explained to me what cerebral palsy is and that Laurence has a relatively mild disability. Only her gait is really weird under normal circumstances, but she doesn't need a wheelchair. However, when she is tired or nervous, her limbs sometimes move without control. She also has some difficulty with gestures requiring precision and cannot dress herself in a reasonable amount of time. She is not really incontinent during the day, but sometimes she loses control of her bladder, so we put a diaper on her as a precaution when she is out of the house.

Laurence, although 4 years older than her sister, started first grade at the same time as Bénédicte because she was behind because of her disability. Because she is very intelligent, Laurence was able to skip a grade as soon as her speech improved after countless sessions with the speech therapist.

Laurence was a very good student, first or second in her class, rarely third. However, she was not integrated. Being uncomfortable with her classmates, she had several accidents in class and wearing a diaper did not improve her popularity. Fortunately, she usually held back and went to the nurse who helped her undress to go to the bathroom and then to get dressed.

Bénédicte, who adores her sister, would take her side, using her fists as "striking arguments" when words were not enough, hence the frequent visits to the infirmary and to the Headmaster's office...

As a result, the other children took a dislike to her and tried to make her their whipping boy. Finally, Laurence changed schools and everything went back to normal with Bénédicte who quickly made friends.

When she finished her explanation, we stayed a few moments without speaking. Then Bénédicte broke the silence and said to me:

-When I heard about you and the projects of some idiots, my blood ran cold. If you're as great as my big sister, I can't let that happen. I made my decision and went to see you. You know the rest. I'm still confused about approaching you like that."

- "It's okay," I replied, "I acted like an idiot and I paid the consequences.

So when I was in first grade, my first friend was a "big girl" from third grade. Since her fists were at least as famous as my diapers, I was left in peace...

############################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################
Author: Laetitia20012003
Timestamp: Jun 27, 2022 at 12:42 PM
Content:

Laetitia20012003 said:

Chapter 3: Bénédicte - Part 2

Just before going to eat at the canteen, I went to the infirmary to be changed. Despite my displeasure, Madame Verrière gave me one of my diapers for the night.

As usual, finding a place to sit was an uphill battle. No one wanted me next to him or her. If I insisted, I was entitled to charming reflections such as :

"Go pee somewhere else!"

or even

"babies eat with kindergarteners!"

I was used to it by now and it didn't affect me as much as it did at the beginning of the school year. Meanwhile, I had to find a place to eat....

That's when I saw Bénédicte waving to me that there was a free seat in front of her.

Not having much choice, I settled down and started to eat, avoiding any contact, even visual, with Bénédicte.

After a while she broke the silence:

- "Are you okay?"

-"Yes."
I would have preferred to eat alone and run away from this canteen buzzing with multiple conversations, but the question didn't seem to contain the slightest mockery, the slightest aggression.

- "I'm sorry about earlier, I just wanted to talk to you, not scare you."

- "It's okay, let's not talk about it." And I plunged my nose back into my plate.

- "Yes, let's talk about it instead. You're like a celebrity around the school. Your classmate, Claire B..., has a brother who is in my class and has been telling everyone about you. For a day or two, you were the center of conversation and a number of my classmates decided to see if you were really wearing diapers during the day. I wanted to warn you, because I don't agree with doing that to you. I know you have no choice but to wear diapers."

- "Why did you warn me?" I asked. "You might get in trouble if this gets out."

-"Don't worry about me, I know how to defend myself, and I also had problems with my classmates because of the diapers. But as I hit harder, they quickly left me alone."

I looked at Bénédicte, dumbfounded, without daring to ask her any more questions.
Guessing my thoughts, she continued:
- "I don't wear a diaper if that's what you're asking. I don't even wet the bed."

I didn't understand anything anymore. Why did she get in trouble for wearing diapers when she didn't even wear them at night? My curiosity was stronger than my shyness.

- "So why did you get in trouble for diapers if you don't wear them?"

Her face darkened and she simply said, "My sister."

As we finished eating, she got up and went out to wait for class to resume. Instinctively, I followed her...

Bénédicte took me by the hand and led me to a secluded, quieter corner of the playground.

-"My older sister has had cerebral palsy since birth."

[End of quote]



############################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################
Author: Laetitia20012003
Timestamp: Jun 28, 2022 at 12:04 AM
Content: Than

kerry said:

That was unexpected and very lovely. It also explains your avatar, which I admit I'd been wondering about.

[End of quote]

Thank you. It's a true story. But the photograph on my avatar is me. You will know the detail later.

############################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################
Author: Laetitia20012003
Timestamp: Jun 30, 2022 at 1:58 AM
Content: Chapter 4: Laurence

Meeting Bénédicte radically changed my life at school. Besides the fact that we became inseparable, no one made fun of me anymore and I started to fit in with my classmates.

With less stress, I became more self-controlled and by the end of first grade, I had no more than two or three accidents a week. What was a constant concern for me at the beginning of the year became almost secondary...

Barely three weeks after we met, Bénédicte invited me to spend the day together on a Wednesday. To my dismay, Mom forced me to wear one of my diapers for the night.

- "Mom, that's not fair! If I'm wearing a straight diaper and plastic panties, I can change on my own, whereas with my night diapers, I'm going to have to ask Bénédicte's mom to undo them so I can go to the bathroom and then put them back on."

- "I know, honey, but we talked about it with Marie-Monique (Bénédicte and Laurence's mother). When you need to go to the bathroom, you'll ask her, so she can check if your diaper is dry. Remember when we went to your aunt and uncle's house last weekend. I gave in to your request. You had your first accident and you didn't tell me because of your cousins' presence. The second accident was disastrous and it was the shame of your life.

- "But this is different. Bénédicte knows my problem. She regularly interrupts our games to remind me to go pee."

- "Stop me if I'm wrong, but you leaked yesterday despite Bénédicte's precautions..."

- "It was just an accident, Benedicte and I were preparing for today and in the excitement of the moment, we forgot about my problem. It won't happen again, I promise you."

Finally, Mom was able to convince me to wear one of my overnight diapers...

....................................................................................................................................................................

It was Laurence who welcomed me. She was 12 years old, tall and thin. Right away, her look imposed itself on me, so deep and intense it was. An all-too-familiar feeling of warmth invaded my crotch, adding to my confusion (thank you, Mom, for putting me in a very absorbent diaper, because it was starting out badly) ....

She hardly articulated "H... HEL... LO".

While she was talking, her limbs, her body were squirming, seemed almost uncontrollable. That simple "hello" seemed to require a superhuman effort.

I greeted her timidly, in a voice that was barely audible...

Fortunately, her mother arrived just in time to avoid that the awkwardness settle down definitively between us.

- "Hello Laetitia!" she exclaimed, ignoring our trouble. "I see that Laurence's curiosity was stronger than her shyness. Bénédicte is in her room, you may go up and join her, girls."

- "Good morning, Madame Coulanges. I have some things to take from the car before going up to see Bénédicte" I said, blushing a little.

-Don't worry about that, honey, your mother and I have a few things to discuss. I'll help her bring your things here. Laurence, please drive Laetitia."

Without saying a word, Laurence took me by the hand and, swaying left and right, led me through a long hallway to the stairs leading upstairs. She then let go of my hand, and began to laboriously climb each step, clutching the banister. I followed her as silently as I could, going at her pace. I felt like my diaper was louder than usual. Yet I didn't seem to have wet so much earlier...

Seeing us enter, Bénédicte left her doll and gave me a welcome kiss, then addressed Laurence:
- "You could have warned me that Laetitia had arrived" she said in a reproachful tone.

-We called you, but you must not have heard.

I was stunned. Laurence's speech was almost normal. It had nothing to do with the barely intelligible mumble she had greeted me with.

- "Let's move on," said Bénédicte, visibly annoyed. "I was playing with dolls, will you girls join me?"

For any answer Laurence left the room while staggering to return a few moments later holding Ken in a hand and Barbie in the other. As for Bénédicte, she resumed the adventures of Jane the adventurer (Action Joe doll of about thirty centimeters).
I threw my heart on Super Jaimie.

If, at the beginning, Laurence's participation was rather chaotic with insecure gestures and words difficult to understand for me, I quickly forgot her handicap as we immersed in our imaginary world. Laurence, on the other hand, was becoming more confident. Her gestures became less disordered and her words clearer. She had adopted me...

After a good hour of play, Laurence suddenly began to lose control of her movements.
- "Mom!!!" shouted Bénédicte "Laurence needs your help!"...
Less than a minute later, Mrs. Coulanges burst into the room.

- "Do you need to go to the bathroom?" Laurence blushed and held out her hands to her mother who helped her to get up. Then turning towards - "you should go too Laetitia. Come on, sweetie."

I felt ashamed (and besides I didn't even have to pee) but I followed her.

When we arrived in front of the door of the toilet, Marie-Monique helped Laurence to remove her skirt and her panties, then let her go to the toilet. I noticed that Laurence was not wearing a diaper or even a plastic panty, but just a "big girl panty".

Meanwhile, Mrs. Coulanges asked me to pull down my jeans so that she could remove my diaper. I didn't know where to put myself. I was turning red and big tears started to flow.

- "Oh darling, don't get yourself into such a state!" said Marie-Monique while giving me a hug.

-You have nothing to be ashamed of. Look, I need glasses to read or to drive because I have a vision problem. You need to wear protection because you have a problem controlling your bladder... Besides, you're wet. As soon as Laurence gets back, I'll take your diaper off, you go to the bathroom, and I'll put a clean one on you."

- "Mom put that stupid diaper on me. If she had let me wear a simple plastic panty with a straight diaper, I wouldn't be in this mess," I replied with a good dose of bad faith.

-Laetitia, be honest, at least with yourself. With the condition of this diaper, a lighter protection would have leaked long ago. Not once in almost three hours have you asked me to go to the bathroom. We talked with your mom and she explained that you don't feel the need to pee when you are focused on something or stressed or under any emotion. We agreed that it was best to protect you effectively because you are emotional and not in an environment you are familiar with. Were you even aware that you had peed?"

- "Once when I got to your house."

-"My experience and the condition of your diaper tells me that you have peed at least three times, maybe four. But because you were sitting or crawling, busy playing, you didn't realize it, especially since your diaper was already wet. Also, you didn't dare to tell me that you wet yourself when you came in, which is understandable from your point of view. All of this added up, your mother was very wise to put a very absorbent cover on you... Come on, stop crying, I know it's not your fault."

While she was talking to me, Marie-Monique had taken off my jeans.

In the meantime, Laurence entered the room and saw me without pants. Again I burst into tears...

As Marie-Monique was undoing the adhesives on my diaper so that I could go to the bathroom, Laurence approached me with her unsteady step and asked in a surprisingly clear voice:

- "Mom, can you please put my clothes back on?"

- "Just a moment Laurence, start putting on your panties, I'll come help you as soon as I'm done with Laetitia."

- "No mom, I would like you to put a diaper on me please."

Marie-Monique paused for a moment, then asked Laurence:

- "I thought you absolutely did not want to wear one today?"

- "That's true, but I just changed my mind. To be honest, I was this close to peeing in my panties earlier. Besides, I'd like to show Laetitia that wearing a diaper isn't the end of the world and that she's not alone in needing one."

Freed from my diaper, I said to Laurence "You don't have to".

- I know," she replied, "but I don't want you to feel any different. Besides, I'm tired of being, like you, interrupted every hour, in the middle of a game, to avoid accidents that happen anyway if you react too late...".

When I came back from the bathroom, Marie-Monique put a diaper on me and I was able to get dressed.

Finally, the day passed quickly and for the first time in my life I had real friends.

Bénédicte, Laurence, and I spent almost every Wednesday together, either at their house or at my grandparents'.

Little by little I had less and less accidents during the day.

On her side, if Laurence didn't systematically wear a protection when she was at home, her mother always put a diaper on her when she came to my grandparents'.

The pediatrician had definitely given up on having me operated on and, as a matter of fact, if I still had one or two accidents a week when I started second grade, I only wore a straight diaper in plastic pants when I was at school or outside the house.

- "Mom, when can I stop wearing diapers during the day?"

- "If you go a month without an accident, you can go without," she replied. "But the first time you have an accident, you're back in a diaper for a week."

At 8 years old, I was potty trained during the day and entered the third grade without having to wear protection, except for the trip to the snow school. In fact, I continued to pee while I slept. However, I had learned to put on my diapers by myself, which was much less humiliating for me...

The mockery of my classmates was a distant memory and I made some very good friends. However, I only had two real friends, almost sisters in fact, I mean Bénédicte and Laurence...

############################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################
Author: Laetitia20012003
Timestamp: Jun 30, 2022 at 5:01 AM
Content:

Lumos said:

Salut et bienvenue!

[End of quote]

Merci

############################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################
Author: Laetitia20012003
Timestamp: Jul 3, 2022 at 3:26 AM
Content:

lukanowkitzki7741 said:

Dearest Laetitia,

This is beautifully written so far comme un opéra français. You should be very proud of yourself for how well you are expressing yourself outside your native tongue.

Viva la France!

Bonne nuit mon amie.

[End of quote]

Aww! Thank you very much. To be honest, I'm doing my best and writing the story as the memories come back to me. The hardest part is keeping the timeline of events straight...

############################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################
Author: Laetitia20012003
Timestamp: Jul 5, 2022 at 9:18 PM
Content: Chapter 5: Nine and a Half Years - The False Step

Since I've been freed from my daytime incontinence, I'm enjoying life to the fullest. Of course, I still have to wear diapers at night, but I put it into perspective because I am really lucky compared to Laurence who has to protect herself as soon as she leaves the house. In spite of everything, she also made great progress because she became globally clean during the day, which is unexpected in her condition (the cerebral palsy is incurable, even if it doesn't get worse).

She, Bénédicte and myself form a strong trio. And if Laurence can't always physically go at our pace, her intelligence and quick wit have made her our true leader. Laurence thinks and plans while Bénédicte and I put her ideas into action...

For almost a year now, a building site has been abandoned because the real estate developer went bankrupt, dragging down several public works companies...

The place, deserted as one could wish, offers a playground like no other. Some buildings are almost finished while others exist only as foundations from which some rusty metal frames come out.

Of course, the more we go into this ghost district, the more we risk to meet gangs and dealers of all kinds...

So we set our sights on a five floors building, in full view, at the edge of the "living district". The building is in fact almost finished, almost habitable. The windows on the first two floors are all broken, but on the fifth floor we discovered a small intact room, more like a storeroom, lit by a small skylight. The frames had been installed and a key was in the lock of the door!

When we took this key, we immediately felt at home. Naturally, Laurence became the "keeper of the key"...

Almost every day, after coming back from school and having a snack at Bénédicte and Laurence's house, we go to our "Headquarters". Marie-Monique sometimes accompanies us there, officially to help us set it up (but maybe, and especially, to make sure we don't get into too much trouble)...

Wednesdays are now spent at the HQ (Headquarters). Laurence stores a few diapers there and either Bénédicte or I change her if necessary.

Looking back, I can't imagine the efforts Laurence had to make to climb the five floors. Even if she would be dry on the ground floor, her diaper is systematically wet when she arrives at the HQ...

Of course, the HQ is coveted and it is not rare that Bénédicte and I have to defend it "manu militari". Fortunately, no serious injury, no degradation of the place has ever been deplored (maybe because of the assiduous presence of Marie-Monique?).

Today we are still undergoing an umpteenth attack...

Fortunately, our position in height allows us to spot the invaders in the distance. Unfortunately, Laurence has to be changed urgently...

- "They are little children of third grade" notices Laurence who hesitates between changing immediately or facing the "invader" at the more than probable risk of having a leak...

- I'll take care of it! Bénédicte, help Laurence and come to join me as soon as possible!"

With these words, I go out, hoping to attract the "enemy" as far as possible from our HQ.

In addition to the rather spacious interior staircase, the building has a very steep fire escape. We never use it (except in case of force majeure) because it is not yet equipped with a ramp and Laurence cannot use it.

Precisely, today is a "case of force majeure"!

So I begin to descend, at first cautiously, the famous staircase, when hardly arrived at the fourth floor, I see the enemy vanguard at the angle of the wall, almost at the entrance door...

It is not question that Bénédicte and Laurence are discovered in an unfortunate situation !

Giving up all prudence, I start to go down the stairs as quickly as possible. With a bit of luck, the noise of my steps will make diversion...

I have not descended ten steps when I feel my ankle slipping with a sharp pain. The fall is inevitable but instead of taking the sharp turn that leads to the third floor, I fall straight down, into the void.... I think I peed in my pants... I fall at a dizzying speed... And then there is a shock, a terrible shock...

Afterwards, I don't know...

It is the black hole, or, more exactly, a blurred penumbra...

From time to time I hear a whisper, but it is so far, so far away...

I don't have pain, well, I don't think so...

Finally, exhausted, I fall asleep...

############################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################
Author: Laetitia20012003
Timestamp: Jul 9, 2022 at 7:16 AM
Content: Chapter 6: Worrying prognosis

- I will not hide you that Lætitia's condition is very worrying".

Doctor Delaporte signals my parents to sit down, then continues with a gloomy look:

- "She broke her neck at the fourth and fifth cervical vertebrae, and although the spinal cord was not severed, it is very damaged. Lætitia will not be able to walk and the motor skills of her upper limbs will probably be limited. But there is more serious. Her brain has suffered an important trauma and for the moment there is nothing to affirm that she will not have serious after-effects, if she comes out of the coma"...

- What do you mean by serious after-effects?" my shocked mother asked.

- Lætitia will be severely mentally handicapped. Given the extent of her injuries, she probably won't be able to speak and if she reaches two years of mental age, it will be a miracle. Be prepared for the fact that she will remain in a more or less vegetative state even though we will do everything we can to help her progress." - The doctor pauses, then resumes - "All hope is not lost, however, your daughter is young and the brain has a surprising capacity for adaptation. Progress is certainly possible, but I don't want you to have any false joy."

- "We will fight!" exclaims Mom in tears. Dad gets up and hugs her, without a word.....

Days pass, then weeks, then a month....

My parents take turns at my bedside in a silence only disturbed by the beeps of the monitors that keep me alive....

After three months, I am still in a coma. Little by little, my parents came to the conclusion that it was better for me to "pass the gun" than to remain a vegetable all my life. The doctors are unanimous, if I wake up one day, I will have at best a vague notion of my immediate environment. It is not even certain that I will ever recognize my parents.

Benedicte and Laurence are not allowed to visit me. Very shocked, Laurence is again incontinent day and night. Marie-Monique slowly prepares her daughters for the "bad news". By mutual agreement, Benedicte and Laurence gave me the "Super Jaimie" doll that I played with most often. It is there, in the cupboard of my room, as inert as me, useless...

The decision is made, I will be unplugged next week. The doses of sedatives are gradually increased, just at the limit of the lethal dose...

The nurse in charge of this palliative medication checks the monitors one last time, but, leaving the products there, calls the doctor on duty. It seems that there is something new...

It is a fact, I am breathing on my own, spontaneously. The sedation that was supposed to put me in the deepest coma possible before disconnecting the machines that still link me to the world of the living is no longer on the agenda....

My parents are immediately informed, I will live...

I sleep a strange sleep. Everything is quiet. Only a light beeping disturbs the silence from time to time. There are also these distant whispers. I don't know who is whispering, I don't understand a word, but I am confident. I have the feeling that these whispers are benevolent...

.........

Doctor Delaporte carefully rereads the last pages of a file and then addresses my parents:

- "Lætitia has come out of the coma but suffers from many after-effects of her fall. The fractures have been reduced and are on the mend. The intern made her undergo a Glasgow-Liège test, conclusive at the level of the face, but not below the shoulders. There is every reason to fear complete quadriplegia."

- "What do you mean?" asks Dad.

- She is paralyzed in all four limbs, but for the moment that's not the most worrying thing," the doctor continues. "It seems that Lætitia suffers from dysphagia, perhaps related to her oral-facial dyskinesia..."

- "Please doctor!" exclaimed mom, "can you clarify the situation without using medical jargon?"

- "Excuse me. To summarize the current situation, Lætitia is currently comparable to a newborn baby. She can't stand or sit, she can't talk, she can't eat solid food, she started drooling about two days after coming out of the coma. It seems that her mobility is normal up to her shoulders but she has no coordination. It is still too early to know if this condition is transient or permanent."

My parents stand speechless, appalled.

- For the moment, any attempt to interact, to communicate with Lætitia is a failure. The future will tell if she suffers from a profound mental handicap, about 2 years of mental age at best, or severe, 4 to 5 years of mental age at best. I am deliberately pessimistic because the case is very particular. Thus, Lætitia's lack of language may be the consequence of a severe intellectual disability or a neurological lack of coordination. In the latter case, she will be able to communicate. For the rest, she will not walk again, will certainly be incontinent, and her chances of recovering the use of her upper limbs are almost nil."

- "What are we going to do?" asked Mom in the height of concern.

- As soon as her condition allows it, Lætitia will be able to integrate a specialized center. Re-education will certainly be long and progress can stop at any moment. The lesions of her brain are very serious and it is too early to risk a prognosis. However, to summarize, you will have a baby for several years, if not for life"...

With that, Doctor Delaporte took leave of my parents.

While waiting for my release from the hospital, the house is reorganized from top to bottom. My room is now on the first floor, a changing table has taken the place of my desk and a stroller replaces my old toys in the closet...

############################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################
Author: Laetitia20012003
Timestamp: Jul 10, 2022 at 1:14 AM
Content:

kerry said:

Am I understanding correctly that this is actually based on your life? If so, I am aghast at what happened in these last chapters, though the fact that you are writing it suggests that all was not as dire as the doctor said...

[End of quote]

You understand correctly. It's my story.

############################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################
Author: Laetitia20012003
Timestamp: Aug 23, 2022 at 2:37 AM
Content: Chapter 7: Awakening

Ouch! Someone just pinched my cheek!

I open my eyes to see what idiot woke me up in this rather cavalier way, but I am dazzled by the light.

It takes me some time to discern a human form, a man I think. It is certainly a foreigner because I understand absolutely nothing of what he says...

I give up telling this perfect stranger my way of thinking. It's true ! Can you imagine pinching people's cheeks like that, without any reason?

But I'm so tired, I give up. I will tell him my way of thinking later. Right now I really need to sleep...

..........

I vaguely remember being pulled out of my sleep several times. Not always by the same person. People are so shameless here!

By the way, where am I?

Certainly not in my room which is much quieter....

...........

- "Lætitia" the voice is feminine, full of kindness....

Again someone who wants to prevent me from sleeping!

- Look at me, sweetie," the voice says softly...

What is happening to me? I turn my head towards the voice, but my movement is erratic. I glimpse a young woman in a white coat, but I can't make eye contact. My head is moving in all directions.

- Don't insist. She certainly doesn't understand you anyway," says a voice, also female, but older.

What do you mean? Of course I understand! I just have a problem with my head that keeps moving. I just have to tell her that I understand....

- "Eeeeeeehhhhhhhhhh!"

- "She screamed!" exclaims the young woman.

- We'll sedate her. She must be terrified," the older voice resumes...

I try to say something, but only a shapeless scream comes out of my mouth...

What's going on?...

Why is my face wet?...

-I have to wipe my mouth...

But in fact, I am tied up!...

Why?

- "Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeehhhhhh!!!"
Untie me!!!...

I'm scared!

- "Eeeeeeeeeeeeeehhh!!!
Where are mom and dad?

Oh my gosh!... I'm so tired! ....

.............

- "Lætitia!"

Again that voice that wakes me up!

- "Look at me"...

My head doesn't move anymore, but my neck hurts... They have tied my head up!

- "Eeeehhh !!!!"

Why don't I talk?...

- "Eeeeeehhh!!!"

What is wrong with me?...

- "Lætitia, look at me sweetie"...

I look at her fleetingly...

And then no! I don't want to look at her until I know what's wrong with me!

I deliberately avert my eyes as the young woman approaches to wipe my face.

My neck hurts a lot. I burst into tears....

Oh my!... I'm so tired. ....

................

For once, I woke up by myself....

I understand very quickly that I am tied up from head to toe. Impossible to make the slightest movement. As soon as I try to move my head, my neck muscles hurt. Anyway it's no use, I'm tied up....

I'm going to wait for mom and dad. With them, everything will be fine...

The days pass, there is nothing to do. I am here, immobilized, useless. The sedatives have completely softened me. I don't know exactly where I am anymore. I sleep most of the time. I feel like I'm floating...

It's silly, but the only thing I'm clearly aware of is the characteristic sound of a diaper being unfolded.

That's right, I almost forgot, I wet the bed...

To change me, they will certainly untie me. At least I can show them that I can do it by myself. I'm used to it now...

But strangely, nothing happens. I don't feel any diaper between my legs. My legs ???

I can't feel my legs !!!

I can't feel my arms either!

Except my neck which remains painful, I don't feel anything precise in my body, just a strange, diffuse feeling...

I've been here for a while and I've never been taken to the bathroom. So I wear a diaper all the time... Shame!... I had so much trouble to be clean during the day... I have to get my act together....

By the way, I must not have been here that long, because nobody has given me any food and I am not hungry. However I heard several times the sound of a diaper being unfolded not far from me...

On the other hand, if I was being diapered, I would know.

Unless the diapers were for someone else?

After all, it makes sense. If I were wearing a diaper, I would feel it. But I don't.

Finally, some good news! I don't wet the bed anymore! Mom and Dad will be proud of me!

Laurence will be jealous...

By the way, what is she doing ? And Bénédicte ?

############################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################
Author: Laetitia20012003
Timestamp: Aug 23, 2022 at 5:47 PM
Content:

KaleidoscopeKitty said:

Gosh. Thank you for sharing your story. I cannot imagine how terrifying it must have been to wake up and find out that you cannot move and that you cannot talk or communicate with people who are assuming you to have lost all cognitive ability. It reminds me of the book Ghost Boy by Martin Pistorius, based on his life, he suffered from locked-in condition as a teen and was believed to be in a vegetative state and couldn’t communicate otherwise for many years until he was given access to an AAC computer device which eventually enabled him to communicate with those around him. It’s a very powerful book if you are ever looking to read something which may have some similarities to your own life story.

Also, you write very well in English. It is better written than a lot of the stories I see from native English speakers! You have a distinctive voice. I look forward to reading the rest of your writing and finding out how you managed to adapt to a very different life.

[End of quote]

Thank you very much. Your feedback is precious (and I appreciate your compliment).

############################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################
Author: Laetitia20012003
Timestamp: Sep 15, 2022 at 2:41 AM
Content:

Domamir said:

Laetitia, this is a very powerful story. I know you are doing much better now. But it is a bit heart wrenching. Please don’t leave us hanging. As to your writing, it is very good, I would not even know you were not a native English speaker, except for when a French term or names come up. Keep up the good writing. I am waiting very patiently.

Please post as you can.

[End of quote]

Thank you very much. I do my best.

############################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################
Author: Laetitia20012003
Timestamp: Sep 29, 2022 at 3:04 AM
Content: Chapter 8: A new life - part one.

I quickly became disillusioned when I realized that I was the one being diapered. I am frustrated and angry! It took me years to get clean during the day and now I have to do it all over again.

Furthermore, I have to face the facts, I can't talk anymore. More exactly I want to speak, but my body does not obey me anymore.

Another thing, I know now that I have been here for a while. Indeed, I am regularly hungry. A nurse comes and connects a kind of plastic bag with a white substance to a tube in my belly and the hunger quickly disappears.

I am bored...

To pass the time, I listen to everything that happens around me. That's how I know almost all the staff in the neurology department. The nurses speak freely in front of me, as if I didn't exist...

They are nice but don't really talk to me. There is one exception, however. Annie, who is going to take her final nursing exam this year, comes to see me more often than the others. Her words are softer, more tender. She often talks to me as if she were my big sister or a "surrogate mom" punctuating her sentences with "my sweetie" or "my baby".

When she is on night duty, she makes sure I am ready for the night. There is tenderness when she changes me or washes me. And when she leaves me to continue her work with the other patients, she always kisses me on the forehead and strokes my hair, things the other nurses don't do.

I heard Geneviève, the head nurse, say to her one day:

"Annie, don't get too attached to Lætitia or you will suffer when she leaves the ward. And there is very little chance that she will understand what you are saying to her".

"I know, but I can't help it. She's so cute. It's like she's my baby".

As she said this, Annie stroked my cheek.

"I understand, it happened to me at first, but I had to step back from those feelings. It hurts too much when patients leave us. In a few weeks, Letitia will go home and we won't see her again. So prepare yourself for this separation now, my daughter, or you will be heartbroken" Geneviève replied.

Annie didn't answer, but I saw a tear beading in her eye...

Every day I was put in a corset and then sat in the custom-made stroller that my parents had brought. At first I was only in the stroller for a few minutes, but then it became longer and longer. I was able to see more than just the ceiling in my room.

My parents also came more frequently to learn how to feed me and maintain my G-tube.
I didn't know why, but Dad's face was hard, as if he was angry. Yet his words, though few, were kind and his gestures tender....

And then one day, when I came back from my walk, Annie took me in her arms, but instead of putting me in bed after having showered and changed me as usual, she put me on her lap and put my head against her shoulder, which was difficult because of the movements my body was constantly undergoing....

She wiped my mouth, more softly than usual, because I had drooled again, then she stroked my hair while rocking me gently. She was crying....

After several minutes, she got up, undressed me, and put me in the hammock to give me a shower. She then dried me off and put me to bed on my bed and changed me.

"Here you go sweetie. You're all clean to go to sleep".

"Sleep well my darling" she said as she placed a kiss on my forehead.

"Sweet dreams. I love you baby".

With that she left me, but I could clearly hear her sobbing...

The next morning, daddy and mommy took me with them to go home...

############################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################
Author: Laetitia20012003
Timestamp: Oct 19, 2022 at 4:44 AM
Content: A new life - part two.

My life at home is not much different from my stay in the hospital. I have nothing to do, I can do nothing except rediscover my body, this body that no longer obeys me.

I have no way to communicate except by screaming or crying. Crying on command is not easy at first, but, like anything else, it can be learned.

I quickly noticed that it is useless to try to speak or move because the slightest attempt causes me to shake from head to toe.

The same thing happens when I am stressed, angry or just plain tired. At the beginning I tried to fight, to tame this body, in pure loss. Each attempt always ends with the same result: I squirm like a snake. As soon as I stop "luting", my body calms down in less than two minutes.

Well, calm is a big word. Even at rest, my arms and legs "turn on", as if someone was flipping an invisible switch. The movements are relatively slow, almost fluid, except that I am unable to say in which direction such arm or such leg will go...

More annoying, I often drool and the feeling of humidity on my chin or my cheek is very uncomfortable. So, when I can't stand it anymore, I burst into tears. Immediately mom, or more rarely dad, comes to see what's wrong.

While talking to me nicely, his first gesture is to wipe my face with the towel that is permanently attached to my neck, which stops my crying and calms the spasms that shake me.

Obviously, although I don't feel any contact between my legs, mom or dad takes the opportunity to check if I'm wet and change me if necessary.

The rest of the time, I'm there with them, snug in my stroller. I feel more like a piece of furniture than a ten years old girl...

For my birthday I got a big hug from mom and dad affectionately caressed my cheek. At that moment, I saw his eyes fill with tears. I didn't know daddy could cry...

A kind of language is established between dad, mom and me. While I am getting better and better at controlling my crying and my way of modulating my cries, Mom and Dad are learning to recognize a cry of joy, anger or even "a cry of laughter" (I don't really laugh)...

For the rest, I am a "baby" except that the bottles are replaced by a gastric tube.

I think that the time will seem long...

Dad has gone back to work but mom stays home with me. She talks to me about everything, about nothing. She doesn't expect any answers from me and when I try to communicate, my body starts moving again and I can't even keep my head turned towards mom.

Anyway, as the doctors said in front of me, my brain is too badly damaged for me to understand what they are saying. My parents are therefore convinced that I am also severely mentally handicapped. At no time did it occur to them that the doctors could be wrong...

Every day is the same. Around 7:30, Mom and Dad came into my room. While Mom gets my catheter ready, Dad gives me a kiss before strapping me into my stroller.

"Hello princess.

Then he kisses mom and leaves for work...

Most of the time, mom puts my tube in place and then pushes me to the kitchen where she eats breakfast with me. It smells good, but I know that on the rare occasions when a small piece of food was put in my mouth, I was not able to eat it without making a mistake...

Sometimes when I wake up, the smell indicates that I didn't just pee. On those days, mom starts by giving me a bath, then changes and dresses me before pushing me into the kitchen where, after connecting my G tube, "we have breakfast together"...

If the weather is nice, mom takes me for a walk, either to do some shopping or to visit one of her friends where, inevitably, they say that I am "cute"...

"Heeeeh !!!! (I'm here!!!)"

"Don't worry sweetie, mommy is here".

She unties me and takes me on her lap.

Sooner or later I pee without feeling anything, and I can't do anything else but digest my humiliation.

"I need to change Lætitia, can I count on your help? It's difficult without special arrangements because of her constant movements".

"Of course, there is a bed upstairs, would you like me to carry her while you look for the necessities in your car?"

Depending on mom's trust in her interlocutor, she lets her carry me or, entrusts her with my things.

After putting a waterproof sheet on the bed, I am laid down and undressed, then mom prepares a new diaper and wipes.

This is when I break down the most. I am 10 years old! I would like a little respect...

"Don't worry, Lætitia almost always cries when we change her, especially when we're not at home," explains mom. "Hold her arms tightly while I change her"...

Sometimes mom and I stay for part of the day.

No one ever talks to me except Mom, and when she does, she doesn't expect me to respond.

I go from humiliation to humiliation. Regularly, Mom puts her hand on my crotch while continuing to chat as if nothing had happened. Just as regularly, she wipes my mouth....

I don't feel anything below my shoulders. Sometimes, a nauseating smell invades the room. I know then that I am going to undergo the worst humiliation because I am going to be changed in the minute...

Time passes slowly, but it passes. Little by little, I learn "the language of my body". Even if I don't feel anything, I understand that my body reacts, especially when I pee or poop. My legs and arms are becoming more active. Obviously, mom has not yet understood and I sometimes stay an hour in my wet diaper...

Today something new is happening. We don't go out as usual. Mom put me in my stroller and started to cook and set the table for four people, not in the kitchen, but in the dining room...

To be continued...

############################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################
Author: Laetitia20012003
Timestamp: Jan 23, 2023 at 6:55 AM
Content: Chapter 9: I'm not a mental retard!

At the first ring of the doorbell, Mom rushed to open the door for our visitors, leaving me alone in the kitchen...

"Come in and sit in the living room, I'll go get Lætitia."

I immediately recognized the voices of Marie-Monique, Bénédicte and Laurence. What a joy to see them again!

Mom pushed me into the living room. The conversations stopped immediately...

My body went wild and Mom had to strap my arms and legs down. "She doesn't control her body and her movements can be violent at times," she said. "She doesn't understand what we say and she can't speak anymore", mom continued, "but you can kiss her".

Marie-Monique got up first to greet me. "Hello Lætitia" she said and kissed me on the forehead. Then Bénédicte approached but stopped for a moment, hesitating...

Mom immediately understood her embarrassment. "Ah yes, I forgot, she drools. When that happens, you just have to wipe her face with the towel attached to her neck"...

Benedicte gently wiped my face, placed a kiss on my cheek, then walked away bursting into tears.

Then came Laurence's turn, supported by her mother. I recognized that deep look that had marked me so much when we met when I was a little over six years old and my eyes could not take my eyes off her gaze. She tried to say something but it was unintelligible and she gave up. She kissed me for a long time, looked at me intensely again, then smiled...

"L..., L...t...aaaa. Sh' Un....dr...." Her mother interrupted her "Laurence, honey, you can tell us later when you're calmer."

Laurence lowered her eyes and returned to her seat, still supported by Marie-Monique.

"Laurence was very traumatized by Lætitia's accident. She had a kind of depression and regressed quite a bit. She didn't walk or talk anymore. She is slowly getting back on track, but progress is slow.

Little by little, the atmosphere became more relaxed. Mom explained to Marie-Monique my daily life and the little hope that the doctors had in my eventual progress, Benedicte listened while looking at me furtively from time to time. As for Laurence, she never took her eyes off me. We were communicating !!! Our bodies were animated by the same spasms....

During the meal, her movements were so disordered that Marie-Monique had to feed her with a spoon. "This is common when Laurence is nervous or stressed" she explained...

After the meal, Mom and Marie-Monique took Laurence and me to my room to change. I was dead ashamed, but Laurence didn't seem to be that affected and laid down willingly on my changing table, still without taking her eyes off me.

While Marie-Monique was getting her dressed, she said to her mother in a perfectly audible voice: "You know mom, Lætitia understands everything we say".

"Honey, I know that you feel sorry for Lætitia, but the doctors are formal, she has the mental age of a baby of a few months".

"But mom, I am sure of what I say and I can prove it ".

Meanwhile Marie-Monique had helped Laurence to get up. She then approached my stroller with an insecure step, looked me straight in the eyes and asked me:

"Lætitia, if you understand me, close your eyes twice"

"Laurence, don't be silly..." began Marie-Monique who immediately stopped because I had just blinked twice...

Coming closer to me, she asked me "Lætitia, my dear, can you close your eyes once briefly, then once for a long time, then once briefly again ?"

Immediately I complied...

"Catherine!"...

Marie-Monique did not continue but hugged mom who was crying her eyes out. The doctors had it all wrong. They were so sure of the extent of my brain damage that they didn't do extensive tests. Since I was sedated, my sluggish reactions confirmed their diagnosis. For them, I was "a vegetable"...

############################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################
Author: Laetitia20012003
Timestamp: Feb 2, 2023 at 1:57 AM
Content:

Blekyss said:

Your story is sooo heartbreaking... I have problems to find words... everything is going under my skin... to my heart... I´m soo moved..

[End of quote]

Aww ! Thank you.

############################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################
Author: Laetitia20012003
Timestamp: Apr 3, 2023 at 1:01 AM
Content: Until then, Mom had taken it easy. I had become a baby again, her baby.

Dad, on the other hand, was becoming more and more distant. I could see that he still loved me, but we had become strangers to each other. He was away from home more and more often, for longer and longer periods, officially because of his work. Moreover, he never took care of me and rarely took me in his arms...

After a few months, he literally deserted the house leaving me and my mother alone.

Because, for mom, I was a baby, she no longer acted with me as if I were a pre-teen. She had accepted my disability and no longer tried to minimize it.

She dressed me in a way that made it easy to feed and change me. Most of the time I wore a T-shirt and tights that did not hide my diaper but kept it in place and could be changed easily in case of a leak. It wasn't discreet but it was practical...

Every day, Mom would strap me into a special chair that would crank me from sitting to standing. She would then take a book and read me a story.

As according to the doctors my condition was stationary and no progress was to be expected, Mom kept me close to her. I took my side and became more and more passive. Rebelling was useless, I was a baby again...

Fortunately, things were about to change. It was time! After all I am approaching my 11th birthday!!!

############################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################
Author: Laetitia20012003
Timestamp: Apr 19, 2023 at 10:14 PM
Content:

Blekyss said:

Oooh, I’m so sorry that your father left you and your mother. Do you have any contact with him today?

I would love to read how things changed for you, as you wrote.
If it’s possible?
Your story is so fantastic.

[End of quote]

Thank you for your comment. To be honest, writing about myself is much more emotionally challenging than I thought.

I had some sporadic contact with Dad, but he passed away about 15 years ago.

However, I decided to go through with my story. I just need some time to take the necessary distance to keep the text interesting without hurting anyone or letting myself be led by my feelings...

############################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################
Author: Laetitia20012003
Timestamp: Apr 29, 2023 at 10:27 PM
Content:

ieyasu said:

You're fortunate to have had someone who "saw" you for who you really were.

Thank you for writing about your life. I look forward to reading about your road to recovery that lead you up to where you are today.

-Ieyasu

[End of quote]

You're right, I'm very lucky.

############################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################
Author: Laetitia20012003
Timestamp: Jul 22, 2023 at 5:31 PM
Content: Chapter 10: Renaissance

Doctor Delaporte can't believe it. The battery of tests I've undergone is indisputable: I'm in full possession of my mental capacities, except that my body, fairly atrophied by inaction, is uncontrollable, useless.

In the 1990s, Botox treatments were the only really effective way of minimizing spasms (baclophene was not yet common in France at the time). In my case, it improved the situation. I hardly ever drooled anymore. On the other hand, my bladder sphincters lost their tone and I was constantly wetting myself, which was a problem when I was being changed.

My life changed radically because, at last, I was considered a person and not an object.

This was the start of a long period of rehabilitation. Nothing was spared: electrostimulation, speech therapy, functional rehabilitation, occupational therapy, and so on...

If I'm still non-verbal, I'm learning to "speak with my eyes".

Right from the start, Mum would slowly sound out the alphabet, and I would blink rapidly to select the right letter. It was time-consuming and tedious, although with a little practice she would suggest the right word directly after the third or fourth letter.

Unfortunately, this system is too slow and complicated for me to express my shame about my clothing : when the outside temperature allows it, or when indoors, I only wear a tee-shirt or sweatshirt and my diaper, covered by a pair of opening plastic pants lined with a straight diaper to limit leaks when we go out.

To speed up my progress, I'll be boarding at a specialized center for severely disabled people.

My disability and Laurence's have brought our respective mothers closer together. Bénédicte and Laurence have truly become my sisters, especially Laurence, who has made spectacular progress in all but one area: potty training.

As much as she goes to the toilet for "the big stuff", she refuses to make any progress with her urinary incontinence, to the point where she has lost all control of her bladder and refuses to wear any underwear other than diapers.

She was briefly implanted with a urinary catheter, but she tore it out, so much so that Marie-Monique resigned herself to letting her wear protections.

An anatomical "night" diaper (a novelty in France at the time) in plastic pants at first, but it leaked regularly because Laurence didn't change when she was wet (although she was quite capable of doing so), then full diapers, which obliged Marie-Monique, Bénédicte or Mom to change her, as she wasn't skilled enough to adjust the tabs. Here again, Laurence had no reaction when her diaper was soaked.

Did she even notice?

Our diapers were checked regularly, and we wore the "night" version and plastic pants over every time we went out.

At the age of 14, Bénédicte, who has become an expert at nursing us, makes quite a bit of money babysitting thanks to this experience.

She is strong enough to carry me, undress me, change me and dress me without help, which she does willingly.

Meals are much more complicated, as Laurence insists on feeding me, and the result is rather messy as she lacks the necessary skill to bring the spoon to my mouth without spilling any.

Bénédicte puts a bib around my neck and guides Laurence's hand to my mouth to limit the damage. No matter, Laurence beams during the meal.

When I sleep at Marie-Monique's, I sleep in the same bed as Laurence, as it is equipped with rails to prevent any risk of falling.

It's a double bed that Marie-Monique had fitted out to facilitate my care.

The advantage is that it's quicker to change the sheets on one bed than on two in the event of a more or less unavoidable nocturnal accident...

As a result, Mum has also invested in allowing Laurence to sleep with me when she and Bénédicte come to stay for several days at a time.

I like sleeping with Laurence because I'm not tied down. I fall asleep in her arms as she covers me with kisses and cuddles.

I should point out that there's nothing sexual between us because, apart from the fact that we each wear a diaper that Laurence can't take off, we also wear a shirt that she can't take off easily. Anyway, she's incapable of undressing me...

Honestly, I don't know how she sleeps hugging someone whose body is in constant spasm, but it doesn't seem to affect her sleep.

The only thing that neither Mum nor Marie-Monique have compromised on is breakfast.

I drink from an unbreakable tumbler and Laurence can't give me a drink without spilling some.

She asked to give me a bottle, but was always refused, much to her regret (and my relief, I must say)!...

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
To be continued.

############################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################
Author: Laetitia20012003
Timestamp: Jul 22, 2023 at 7:47 PM
Content:

Blekyss said:

No matter how I try my words are falling down into nothing. This story of your life is filled with so much beautiful feelings abut also hard struggle... it makes me speechless..
I´m really, really looking forward to continue following your fantastic story.

[End of quote]

Thank you for your support. Have a great day.

############################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################
Author: Laetitia20012003
Timestamp: Jul 22, 2023 at 8:17 PM
Content:

Blekyss said:

Thank you so much, dear Laetitia! You have made my day bright beautiful.

[End of quote]

I'm always happy to make someone happy

############################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################
Author: Laetitia20012003
Timestamp: Jul 23, 2023 at 3:12 AM
Content: Chapter 11 : 11 1/2 years - Discovering the center

Today, Monday, Mom wakes me up around six in the morning, washes me, changes me, dresses me, straps me into my stroller (I can't drive a wheelchair) and gives me breakfast.

Then she does her own washing and checks my diaper for the first time all day, as all these operations take time, and already has to change me (you can tell I'm stressed). It's about nine o'clock in the morning.

She puts me in the car before folding up my stroller and putting it in the boot with my week's belongings.

As it's quite warm, I'm wearing just a T-shirt and my usual diaper. Mom left me barefoot this time...

After a good hour's drive, we arrive at the center where Jacqueline, my care assistant, greets us.

When I went to the center for the first time, I was terrified when Mom "abandoned" me. To begin with, my bladder and bowels emptied completely, and my diaper couldn't contain the foul-smelling flood. I was in tears, overwhelmed by a sense of terror, rage and shame, so much so that Jacqueline handed me over to the nurses.

Despite their kindness and gentleness, I continued to scream and my body was shaken by spasms of such violence that they put me in a fully upholstered bed and restrained me so that I wouldn't hurt myself.

All's well that ends well, because the weakness of my muscles, atrophied by almost a year of inactivity, enabled the nurses to immobilize me without sedating me.

At every moment, one of them spoke to me, not as if to an infant or a mentally retarded person, but as if to an 11-year-old girl already capable of understanding many things.

After an hour, exhausted, I fell asleep.

When I woke up, Mum and Jacqueline were there, leaning over the bed. To my amazement, I felt fresh in one of my clean T-shirts.

"You know, Lætitia, I'm here to support your progress," said Jacqueline.

"Your mom can't leave you at home alone while she goes to work. However, maybe we can arrange for her to pick you up in the evenings after work at first, but you'll have to stay overnight at the center as soon as possible to rebuild yourself."

"You're a big girl now and I'm sure you understand what I'm saying, don't you sweetie?"

I gave a long wink: "Yes".

So Mum and Jacqueline put me in my seat in the back of the car, and Mum took me home. Fortunately, she doesn't work on Mondays...

The next day, Mom woke me up again around six, washed me, changed me, dressed me (a T-shirt was enough) but put socks and shoes on me. It's strange, we usually go for walks much later...

At home or at Marie-Monique's, I'm strapped into my stroller so I don't fall out (I can't sit up on my own), but my legs and arms are free to move as they please. There is just to be careful my stroller not to stand too close to a piece of furniture or a wall, where I could injure myself in an uncontrolled movement. Passing through doors is also tricky, as a leg or an arm may not fit.

So, as soon as we go outside, Mum puts on my socks and shoes, and shackles my legs in the stroller's footbraces.

Most of the time, my arms stay free, but they can get tangled up in the buckles of my harness when we go places Mom doesn't know.

Often, a few dozen minutes after our arrival, Mum will release my arms after checking that I'm not in danger of bumping into anything. Sometimes, she'll even untrain my legs if my stroller is on "very open ground".

In short, it's highly unusual for Mom to hobble my limbs so early in the morning.

"I'm not driving you to the center today," says Mom. "You're going to take the bus like a big girl. You'll see, everything will be fine.

At eight o'clock, Jacqueline rings the doorbell.

"Hello Lætitia", she says, kissing me on the forehead. "Ready for your first bus trip?"

Despite the restraints, my body twitches quite violently (from the noise my diaper makes, I'm pretty sure I've peed) and I start drooling.

"Come on darling, don't get yourself into such a state," Jacqueline continues. "You can choose to travel seated in your stroller or lying down in the bus".

"So sit down?"

Long wink: "Yes".

Just to be sure, Jacqueline replies: "Lying down?

Two quick winks: "No".

"Then off we go," she says, passing behind my stroller and wiping my face as she goes.

"Wait," says Mom, "I think Lætitia needs a diaper change.

"You've put her in a diaper for the night, with plastic pants over it. And you've had the good idea of lining the stroller seat with a mattress protector. The trip only lasts an hour, and if Lætitia has a little accident, the consequences will be negligible, since she's not wearing skirts or pants."

"Don't worry and get ready for work."

Mom gives me a bigger-than-usual hug: "Be good, darling, see you tonight".

These last words reassured me a little. Mom said "see you tonight". So she doesn't want to abandon me...

To be continued...

############################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################
Author: Laetitia20012003
Timestamp: Jul 23, 2023 at 6:06 PM
Content: Chapter 12: The beginning of a long stay

Jacqueline pushes me onto the platform elevator that raises us to the floor of the bus, then leads me to my seat. The driver immobilizes my stroller next to a girl in an electric wheelchair, then goes to the driver's seat.

We start off, to the hilarity of my neighbor.

Jacqueline introduces us.

"Lætitia, this is Brigitte.

"Brigitte, this is Lætitia.

"You'll be sharing the same room and I'm your carer, which means we'll be together most of the time."

Clearly, Brigitte, though non-verbal, is much more "talkative" than I am. She greets me with long, modulated cries and seems delighted by my presence.

I don't try to answer. It would be pointless anyway...

During the journey, Brigitte visibly seeks contact, touching my shoulder, stroking my hair, accompanying each gesture with little cries resembling the babble of a baby happy to be alive.

My body wriggles in all directions, but my movements are thankfully limited by the restraints. I sense that something is wrong, but what?

A nauseating smell soon gives me the answer. I've pooped...

At the height of my humiliation, I burst into tears.

Clumsily, Brigitte strokes my cheek with little cries that I take for encouragement.

Jacqueline opens the window...

"Calm down, Lætitia, you're stressed, it's just an accident. Hang on, darling, we've only got fifteen minutes to wait."

Brigitte's cries have stopped.

She puts both hands to her crotch and starts to squirm in her chair.

After a few minutes, her cries resume, but their nature has changed. They're more like discreet moans.

"Courage Brigitte, hold on sweetie" are Jacqueline's only words...

Arriving at the center, the driver releases the seats. Brigitte and I got off first.

As soon as her wheelchair touched the ground, she sped off towards the entrance to the main building.

Jacqueline, following at a run, has time to shout to the nurse who is coming out to meet me:

"Take care of Lætitia, I'm coming!"

I recognize her; she's one of the nurses who took care of me yesterday.

"Hello Lætitia, come in quickly. You can't stay like this," she says, pushing me towards the infirmary with long strides.

I'm quickly undressed. I'm at my worst, completely soaked and smelly.

Mom was well advised to put a draw sheet on my stroller, it goes straight into the garbage can...

Once undressed, I'm placed in a hammock attached to the hook of some sort of crane, and plunged into a bubble bath.

The warm water feels good, and my spasms gradually become less violent.

"My name is Sandrine", says my nurse, "The driver radioed us about your little problem. So we've arranged to have it sorted out by the time you get here.

It's nice of her to explain all this to me. People usually talk to me like I'm a baby. She mustn't know that I can't answer her...

"Eeeeeeeeeeeh!!!" That simple cry set my body in motion again...

"Calm down darling" replies Sandrine, "I don't understand your language yet."

Language? That's just it, I don't have any language! How can I explain it to her?

My vocalizations are useless, so I keep quiet... As usual...

Sandrine gets me out of the bath, dries me with gentle but effective gestures, puts on my diaper, then a pair of plastic panties, takes one of my T-shirts from my suitcase and puts it on me. Finally, she puts my socks and shoes back on.

Finally, she fills my stroller with a new undersheet and settles me in, not forgetting to restrain my arms and legs.

I give her a reproving look, which she seems to understand.
"I don't know if you're usually set up like this, but this is how you arrived and I can only see that you're safe this way."

"You can tell us later how you'd like to be set up."

This nurse is surprising. On the one hand she seems to understand my slightest glance, but on the other she seems incapable of understanding that I'm non-verbal.

I'M NON-VERBAL! It's not hard to understand! Is she blocked or what???

How can she expect me to tell her how I want to be installed?

Besides, it's been a long time since anyone cared what I wanted...

Just then, Jacqueline joins us, accompanied by a hilarious Brigitte.

"You see you can do it!" exclaims Sandrine, without waiting for any explanation from Jacqueline.

"Awawaaaaaaaaaa!" exclaims Brigitte, visibly ecstatic.

"Okay, I won't put a diaper on you until tonight, but you're careful, right?"

"I suppose Jacqueline has put a pull-up on you?"

Brigitte's face momentarily darkened and she merely replied with a long blink.

"Then everything's in order," Sandrine concluded.

I didn't understand much of this "dialogue".

First of all, how is it that Sandrine understands Brigitte's cries perfectly?

Secondly, what's a "pull-up"? From what I understand, it's an alternative to diapers...

Interesting...

Discreetly, I look at Brigitte's pants. Not the slightest extra thickness is detectable, whereas it was obvious that she was wearing a diaper on the bus....

What's more, it doesn't appear to be a diaper, since Sandrine told Brigitte she wouldn't be putting one on her until this evening.

"Pull-up", perhaps that's what we call briefs or panties here? But Brigitte's reaction to the word is unequivocal: whatever a pull-up may be, it's not quite normal panties.

But it's very discreet from what I've seen...

I really need to communicate. Maybe Sandrine or Jacqueline will one day come up with the idea of spelling out the alphabet for me, like Maman has been doing for almost six months.

It will certainly be a long and arduous task to bring up my dress code, which I haven't yet managed to do with Maman, but all hope is not lost if I can make some progress.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

It's important to understand that in 1991, pull-ups weren't as common as diapers (all plastic-coated with very few exceptions) and, given my condition, this kind of product would have been totally ineffective.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Meanwhile, with so much going on, it was almost 2:00 pm. Postponing the tour of the facility, Jacqueline, accompanied by Brigitte, pushed me into the refectory.

After putting a bib around our necks, she brought us a plate containing a huge stack of crêpes, as well as sugar and jam jars of all kinds.

Brigitte raised her arms and waved her hands rather awkwardly, then pressed them against her crotch.

"Yes, Brigitte," replied Jacqueline. I'll take you to the bathroom and you can wash your hands before eating your pancakes.

"Awawaaa" Brigitte resumes, looking at me.

Jacqueline then puts her hand on my diaper.

What a shame!

"Lætitia is wet, but that can wait until after the pancakes. She doesn't need to wash her hands because I'm the one who's going to make her eat like I did for you in the beginning, remember?"

Brigitte gives a long wink: "Yes".

The rest of the day passed like a dream. The center is ultra-modern, even if some of the buildings are over a century old. All the large doors can be operated by the residents from their wheelchairs.

It seems that everyone is free to go where they want, when they want.

In the end, perhaps my stay at the center won't be as horrible as I'd feared...

In any case, this first day has given me a new perspective on the future. I may never walk or talk again, but I'll be able to grow up and become something other than the "poor, deeply retarded girl" I am today. And that alone is unhoped-for...

It's nearly 8:00 p.m. when Mom picks me up. Clearly, she's had a long and tiring day.

She agrees with Jacqueline that I need to get used to the center before living there. A week is a long time, and they're well aware that I've never left Mom's side, except for brief stays with Bénédicte and Laurence, since I was discharged from hospital.

"Ready to go home, honey? Say goodbye to Jacqueline. You'll see her tomorrow."

"Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeh!"

"See you tomorrow," Jacqueline says, kissing me on the cheek.

" EEEEEEEEEEEH !!!! "

I scream louder. My body moves so violently that I would have fallen out of my stroller if I wasn't strapped in.

"EEEEEEEEEEEH!!!" I blink frantically : NO!!!

Surprised, Mom asks, "Don't you want to go home?"

I blink twice: No.

Jacqueline and Maman look at each other for a moment.

Breaking the silence, Jacqueline declares:

"If Lætitia wants to stay here tonight, she's welcome to. I think we should respect her choice.

"But she has no nightwear and will certainly run out of diapers. She's been leaking more and more lately," replies Mom.

"Don't worry about that Catherine. The diapers you're putting on Lætitia don't fit her anymore, as they're designed for young children. As soon as she arrived this morning, Sandrine put a Polivé (French brand) diaper on her. These are night diapers for teenagers, and the small size suits her well. We did put on a straight diaper and her plastic panties, but they seem to be useless for daytime. Tomorrow, Lætitia will only wear a full diaper. We'll see if there are any leakages."

"As for her clothes, you've left us enough to dress her tonight and tomorrow."

"Until tomorrow night, then," says Mom. "I'll bring clothes for the rest of the week if Lætitia decides to board here."

I was overjoyed and proud too. For the first time since my accident, not only had my opinion been taken into consideration, but my choice had been respected...

To be continued...

############################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################
Author: Laetitia20012003
Timestamp: Jul 25, 2023 at 2:13 AM
Content:

Prillprillprill said:

Your story is so touching thanks for sharing.

Also what is a 'straight diaper' is it similar to a pull up? I'm not familiar with this term

[End of quote]

Thank you.
a "straight diaper" is a rectangular pad, very absorbant as know as "insert" when you put it in an all-in-one diaper. When I wear a plastic pant over my diaper, it absorb the leakages I have often due my body spasms.

############################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################
Author: Laetitia20012003
Timestamp: Jul 29, 2023 at 11:55 PM
Content: Chapter 13: First night at the center

Honestly, I was a little anxious when Mom left me in Jacqueline's hands. It's the first time I've left my mother's bosom, and I'm fully aware of it, for a long time to come.

After supper, Jacqueline takes me straight to my room, where I meet Brigitte.

It's a spacious room with three beds, two of which are medicalized.

"Normally, there would be a third resident able-bodied enough to call the night shift if necessary," Jacqueline explains. "But the last resident left 15 days ago. A nurse from the night shift will come by every hour to check on her, and the room is under video surveillance."

That said, Jacqueline slips a harness around Brigitte's body, brings the crane hook over her, and attaches the rings of straps to it.

I then see her press a button on the electric hook-lift control.

Brigitte bursts out laughing as she rises into the air.

Jacqueline pushes the crane until Brigitte is over one of the beds, then lowers her down before removing the harness.

Having made her comfortable, Jacqueline covers Brigitte with her sheet and blanket, gives her a teddy bear (which has obviously lived) and bids her good night with a kiss on the forehead.

"It's your turn, Lætitia," she says, turning back to me.

My body jerks in a cacophony of crumpled plastic. It seems that Polivé nappies are much noisier than my usual Peaudouces...

"Calm down, sweetie," says Jacqueline gently, stroking my cheek, "you're in no danger. Look at Brigitte, she even takes pleasure in the bed-to-wheelchair transfers."

She then puts my stroller in the "resting" position, and I find myself almost horizontal, like when I'm being napped and there's no bed to meet my specific needs, then releases the straps that prevent me from falling out when the stroller is in the "sitting" position.

Fitting the harness around my wriggling body is no mean feat, but Jacqueline is clearly no novice...

"On the count of three, I'll take you up. 1 ; 2 ; 3..."

Like Brigitte, I find myself hovering in the air above my stroller. As soon as I saw Jacqueline's finger press the control button, I screamed in terror.

"HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEH !!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

"Laetitia, don't be afraid" Jacqueline tells me "I'm holding your hand". The only problem is that I can't feel anything when someone touches me below the shoulders...

Finally, I calm down. There's nothing unpleasant about being suspended from the crane, and the sensations are hardly any different from when Mom uses the manual lift I'm used to. The electric crane is just more impressive.

Instead of pushing me towards one of the two vacant beds, Jacqueline pushes me towards a large table whose top, covered with a draw sheet, is electrically height-adjustable.

Once on what is a "giant" changing table, Jacqueline straps me in and takes the time to explain each operation to me, which I'm grateful for, as it's been a long time since I've had anything explained to me...

She then opens my plastic snap-on pants and puts on a diaper, identical and just as noisy as the one I was wearing, after lining it with a straight diaper.

To my surprise, Jacqueline put my plastic pants back on, reusing the diaper Sandrine had put in. These Polivé diapers may be noisy, but they're just as effective. I've decided to see what's preferable between plastic noise and leaks. There will always be time to express my disapproval, if I'm ever asked...

I suppose Jacqueline sensed my astonishment, for she declares, looking me straight in the eye:

"Lætitia, we don't do anything here without the residents' agreement as long as it's safe. I know you can't talk, but you'll see that you can express yourself. You just have to give us time to understand your language."

There's that "language" again! What does it mean? I'll have to do some serious digging into that too...

Jacqueline continues:

"I changed your all-in-one diaper because it was necessary, but I've put back the panties and the straight diaper that Sandrine had put over your nappy this morning because they're dry. Tomorrow, we'll try to put only a full diaper on you, without plastic pants or a straight pad over them, if that's okay with you, but for tonight I'd rather be cautious and limit the risk of leaks. Does that suit you?"

I blink once, at length, "Yes."

Jacqueline then unties the straps connecting me to the changing table and puts the harness rings back into the crane hook.

Once again, I rise into the air before being deposited in the second medical bed.

It's different from Brigitte's in that there are restraints on my arms and legs to limit my range of movement. Like Brigitte's, my bed has retractable rails, but these are surrounded by thick fleece.

"It's your first night here, sweetie" explains Jacqueline, "I don't want you to hurt yourself if you're anxious. As you know Sandrine, she'll be the one on night duty. If you need anything, just shout. The room is under surveillance and the slightest noise can be heard over the loudspeaker in the on-call room. We'll see along the way if there are any additional arrangements to be made for your comfort and safety."

"Good night Lætitia, try to get some sleep," concludes Jacqueline before placing a kiss on my forehead and leaving the room, switching off the light as she goes.

I'm a little nervous, but for once I've made up my mind. I chose to sleep here, even though Mum was prepared to take me home every night until I was ready to leave the family cocoon.

Honestly, I have to admit that it's not the end of the world.

On the contrary, for the first time in almost two years, my opinion is required and respected.

Sated and exhausted by so many emotions, I soon fall asleep.

To be continued...

############################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################
Author: Laetitia20012003
Timestamp: Jul 31, 2023 at 12:06 AM
Content:

Felstormvortex said:

Uh. Wow. I just finished reading what you have so far. I can't imagine waking up paralyzed, and people think you are in a vegetative state, but you're still there unable to communicate.

Your English is quite good. I look forward to reading more.

[End of quote]

Thank you.

############################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################
Author: Laetitia20012003
Timestamp: Aug 3, 2023 at 12:48 AM
Content: Chapter 14: Brigitte

When we met on the bus, Brigitte was about 3 years old mentally, although she was in fact 17.

Like me, she doesn't walk, is non-verbal, but has relative control of her upper limbs, which enables her to drive her electric wheelchair and eat (almost) cleanly on her own.

She no longer knows how to dress herself and must be helped when she asks to go to the toilet.

She sometimes has to wear pull-ups (a fairly new product in France in 1992, especially in large adolescent and adult sizes) when there are no easily accessible toilets.

Every time she travels or goes out for more than an hour, we systematically put a full diaper on her.

At night, she wears one too, with a plastic diaper over it, just like me.

She's a lovely girl, very cuddly, happy to be alive and never stops babbling.

Jacqueline told me that she's less and less aware of her condition, which I think is a good thing.

I'm even a little jealous, as I'd really like to be unaware of my inability to do anything.

I can't even really eat. A few very small pieces swallowed laboriously allow me to taste certain dishes (not all, as I often have false routes when swallowing), but in fact I'm fed by a gastric tube, whereas Brigitte can eat as she likes, and she has a good appetite!

However, Brigitte wasn't always intellectually challenged.

Normal in early childhood, at the age of 8 she began to wet the bed and often fell over.

At 10, she could no longer get around without crutches, and her grades began to slip.

At 11, she had to use a wheelchair and could no longer stand without support.
.
By the age of 12, she had not had a single dry night, could no longer attend school and had to be placed in a special school.

She is diagnosed with a degenerative genetic disease. She became seriously depressed.

Her condition worsens. She loses control of her legs and falls several times from her wheelchair.

She began to have more and more accidents during the day, and had to wear diapers 24 hours a day.

At 13, she gradually loses the use of her upper limbs and can no longer dress herself. Her mother overprotects her, especially as her mental age continues to decline.

By the age of 14, she was no longer talking, but seemed increasingly happy with life, and was coming out of her depression. The doctors give her a mental age of 5 to 6 years, but she regresses very quickly.

When she arrived at the center, she was barely two years old and no longer ate alone. Thanks to the dedication of the center's staff, she was taken in hand and slowly made progress again.

By the age of 15, she could eat by herself again, and was potty-trained during the day to the point where she no longer wore diapers. She was able to enter kindergarten, but never spoke again.

At 16, she had to switch from a manual to an electric wheelchair as she gradually lost control of her upper limbs.

At the age of 17, she began to pee her pants again from time to time. Her mental age is estimated at around three years. That's when we met.

To be continued...

############################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################
Author: Laetitia20012003
Timestamp: Nov 2, 2023 at 11:53 AM
Content:

pampers4U said:

Wow, such a story!! It’s amazing how strong and courageous you are, while reading, I’m feeling many different emotions, some sad, some happy. I’ve never read any true account from someone that was traumatically injured such as yourself, your writing skills are amazing, keep up the great work.

[End of quote]

Thank you.
I know I don't post regulary but I'll do my best. Honestly it's not easy for me to translate the text in English and automatic translators don't make a very good job (good translation word for word, but not as good to translate ideas lol).
Please be patient with me.

############################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################
Author: Laetitia20012003
Timestamp: Nov 4, 2023 at 2:32 AM
Content: Chapter 15: 11 to 17 - Life at the center

After a brief chat about what I've done over the weekend, Mom comes home to take care of the housework she can't do when I'm there.

I like Jacqueline. She's in her thirties, has a certain elegance and loves her job.

More generally, I like life at the center. The residents are neither scorned nor judged. They are treated as individuals in their own right.

Some are just passing through for a few weeks or months, others, like me, are residents for several years.

Admittedly, I'm one of the most severely disabled residents, but I'm not the one with the most severe physical impairment. Some of my comrades are on respirators and can't even hold their heads up.

Others have a mental disability, sometimes severe in addition to their physical handicap.

The teaching is adapted to each resident, and the level of study depends above all on the ability of each individual.

For example, I'm "with the big kids" for general education, but I'm not even at kindergarten level for object handling or oral expression.

Most boarders wear diapers, but not all, and the level of absorption is adapted to each case according to the nature of the disability and the severity of the incontinence.

Generally speaking, residents are encouraged to be as independent as possible, and can discover their own bodies at their own pace.

You're even encouraged to try out your own experiments under the supervision, and usually with the help, of your assistant. Monday, the day the residents arrive, is reserved for "self-discovery".

September 15, 1992 is a great day. It's my birthday, I'm 12 years old, but more importantly, the gastric tube that had been feeding me until then is removed. I was able to eat solid food because I had acquired sufficient coordination to chew and swallow without a false start. I can now eat at the table like everyone else, even though I'm spoon-fed like a baby.

What's more, I'm able to hold my head still, with the hope of being able to control an electric wheelchair via contacts in and around the headrest, but let's not get ahead of ourselves.

I learn another, more practical alphabet adapted to French (I guess there are others adapted to different languages): the "EJASIN" system, which presents the most frequently used letters first, on 7 lines. This saves a lot of time, especially as the seventh line contains "pre-recorded phrases" enabling me to quickly express my desires or immediate needs.

Bénédicte and Laurence quickly adapted to this new system of communication, which we have further enhanced with modulated cries and agreed gestures. In fact, I'm getting better and better at "modulating" the size and violence of my movements, even though I still have no control over my body.

To attract attention, I let out a long, high-pitched scream. If I have a desire or need listed on line 7, all I have to do is try to articulate a word and hold out my hand at the same time. My body then becomes agitated and my interlocutor knows where she stands without having to go through the rest of the alphabet.

If, on the other hand, I look her straight in the eye without attempting the slightest movement or word, the movements remain slow. My interlocutor then knows that I want to construct a sentence (often reduced to one or two words).

This new system has enabled me to express my shame about the way I dress.

From now on, I'll always wear a dress, skirt, pants or shorts over my diaper, even if it does complicate things when I need changing (it takes almost three times as long). On the other hand, if I wear pants or a skirt, I always have to wear my "night-time change".

At home, or at Marie-Monique's, I've reluctantly agreed not to wear anything over my "day diaper" to spare the person who has to change me a tedious undressing and re-dressing.

In return, the "day" diaper is much thinner than its "night" counterpart, and I don't need any plastic panties. A sufficiently long T-shirt conceals my "sexy lingerie" quite well...

As a weekday boarder, I only see Bénédicte and Laurence on weekends and vacations.

At the center, my progress is slow. Too slow for my taste, but real. I'm holding my head better and better, and above all I'm beginning to control its movements.

As for the rest, there's been no noticeable change. I'm still non-verbal and my body and limbs are still uncontrollable. I'm beginning to think I'll be a "baby in a woman's body" for the rest of my life, especially as my first period comes shortly after my thirteenth birthday...

I sink into a kind of depressive state and my progress, already slow, slows further. I gave up and let myself go, to the point where I stopped cooperating with the daily re-education sessions.

Fortunately, Mum and Jacqueline don't give up and fight for me.

Apart from Bénédicte and Laurence, my only friend is Brigitte. More than a friend, she's become my little sister in a way.

She's just happy to be alive, to be with me despite the progress of her illness.

At almost 19, she's in a stroller like me because she can no longer drive her electric wheelchair.

Her incontinence is getting worse, to the point where she wears pull-ups all the time during the day.

Curiously, she doesn't seem to mind, much to Jacqueline's relief, who quickly understands why.

Brigitte is "in love" with me. Oh, it's an innocent, platonic love, but it's real.

One day when we were in kindergarten class, she became interested in a catalog of wedding dresses that Jacqueline was leafing through.

Brigitte put her finger on a dress she obviously liked, took my hand, brought it to her mouth and placed a kiss on it.

Jacqueline, who had been watching her, asks if she'd like to wear the dress.

Brigitte, while answering "yes" with her eyes, places my hand on the image of the same wedding dress.

Intrigued, Jacqueline asks, "Do you want Lætitia to wear it too?"

"Yes," Brigitte replies, placing another kiss on my hand and looking me straight in the eye.

"Are you in love?" Jacqueline jokes again.

"Yes, yes," says Brigitte, visibly serious, kissing my hand again.

I don't know where to put myself, my body is starting to shake and I'm soiling my diaper noisily...

Curiously, Brigitte soaks her pull-ups that a wet halo appears on the crotch of her jogging pants...

Jacqueline rushes us to the infirmary where Sandrine takes immediate charge.

I'm cleaned and changed first.

As Sandrine prepares to put on Brigitte's pull-ups, she shows her refusal by moving her legs violently and saying "no" with her eyes.

"Brigitte, you know it's not a punishment," Sandrine tells her gently.

"Yes" says Brigitte.

"Then let me change you" replies Sandrine.

"Yes", says Brigitte.

But just as Sandrine approaches the pull-ups, Brigitte starts her merry-go-round again.

"You don't want Pull-ups?

"No!!!"

"But you agree to be changed?"

"Yes," Brigitte replies, immediately turning her gaze to my crotch.

"Do you want me to put a diaper on you like I did to Lætitia?"

"Yes"

"Are you sure? You know that diapers are reserved for those who have no control?"

"Yes"

"You still have control over your bladder. You just have a few accidents now and then, don't you?"

"No!" replies Brigitte, flooding the changing table.

"Brigitte!!!"

But Brigitte just smiles...

"Eeeeeeeee!!!"

"Do you want to say something Lætitia?"

"Yes!"

Sandrine then presents me with the "EJASIN" chart and begins to tick off the columns:

"1" - "Yes" I blink

Sandrine continues: "E" - "No

"A" - "Yes"

"1" - "No"

"2" - "No"

"3" - "No

"4" - "Yes"
"T" - "No" - "M" - "Yes"

"AM" resumes Sandrine - "Yes"

" 1 " - " No " - " 2 " - " No " - " 3 " - " No " - " 4 " - " No " - " 5 " - " Yes "

"O" - "Yes" - "AMO?" - "Yes"

" 1 " - " No " - " 2 " - " No " - " 3 " - " Yes "

"S" - "No" - "U" - "Yes"

"AMOU?" - "Yes"

At this point Brigitte becomes agitated and utters joyful little cries.

Sandrine, intrigued, resumes: "LOVE?" (AMOUR in French)

"Yes," says Brigitte, all smiles. Sandrine looks at me... " Yes," I reply, but without showing the same joy.

"Brigitte, you mean you're in love with Lætitia?"

"Yes, Yes, Yes" Brigitte says three times.

"Is that why you want to wear a diaper like her?"

"Yes" says Brigitte, bursting into laughter.

"Well, it's agreed for today, but we'll talk about it again" says Sandrine as she changes Brigitte...

To be continued...

############################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################
Author: Laetitia20012003
Timestamp: Nov 14, 2023 at 2:15 AM
Content:

Growler0128 said:

I knew a girl who had cystic fibrosis. she had a G-tube till she was in her 20's then had it taken out.

[End of quote]

I feel for her and I'm happy she doesn't need G-tube anymore.

############################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################
Author: Laetitia20012003
Timestamp: Jan 21, 2024 at 9:56 PM
Content: Chapter 16: Brigitte continued and... ended

Life at the center is still slow.

However, I'm getting better and better at controlling my head, and at 15 I'm about to take the next step in my quest for independence.

I'm going to have an electric wheelchair with the controls integrated into the headrest, which will enable me to go anywhere in the center on my own, and outside the center with minimal assistance.

From now on, I won't be a "piece of furniture" to be moved here and there. I'll go wherever I want when I want!

As for Brigitte, we're a couple. However, much to her regret, she's realized that we can't share the same bed.

I love her like a sister, just as I love Laurence, of whom she is jealous and who returns the favor, but I'm not in love...

I like her company, her babble. I like it when she discreetly signals to Jacqueline that I need changing.

To be honest, there's a "handsome guy" among the ergonomists who doesn't leave me unmoved, even if he doesn't seem to realize that I exist...

Little by little, Brigitte's condition worsens. She gradually loses control of her body, finds it hard to recognize her parents and sometimes even Jacqueline.

I seem to be the only one left in her life, which is causing more and more problems.

Indeed, while physically I'm barely in kindergarten, intellectually I'm at a good level of 5th or even 6th grade, which isn't the case for Brigitte, whose mental age is barely two, even though she's almost twenty.

Jacqueline herself can't say for sure whether Brigitte's love for me is that of a wife, a daughter or a little sister. We'll never know...

One day in December 1995, when I was due to see the occupational therapist to finalize what was to become my new wheelchair, Brigitte didn't want to leave me and was starting the usual comedy when her cries suddenly stopped.
Her eyes bulged, her body began to shake like never before. She drooled as her face contorted into a frightened grimace. Jacqueline told me "it's a seizure or a stroke" as she pressed the emergency call button.

In less than a minute, the center's doctor and two nurses took her away.

I was stunned and Jacqueline took me back to my room. My future wheelchair can wait, it won't fly away...

First of all, she changed me as I was soaking wet, then she explained to me that Brigitte's condition had deteriorated, so she had expected such a crisis and that it was even surprising that it happened so late.

Here again, I'm grateful to Jacqueline for her frankness.

Brigitte never regained consciousness and passed away on January 19, 1996, leaving a great void in my heart.

Rest in Peace little sister...