Sarahs bed wetting

The following day

The following day, after a restless sleep, Sarah's mother called her into the living room where she had laid out a pile of pamphlets and articles. "I did some research," she said, her voice filled with determination. "It's more common than you think, especially with stress."

Sarah felt a lump form in her throat as she looked at the information spread out before her. There were pictures of teenagers her age, smiling and confident, despite their shared issue. Her mother's eyes searched hers, looking for any sign of hope or relief, but all she could manage was a weak nod. "We'll try some exercises to strengthen your bladder, and maybe talk to a doctor if it doesn't get better."

The thought of seeing a doctor, of someone else knowing her secret, was almost too much to handle. But she knew her mom was just trying to help. So, she picked up one of the pamphlets, her heart racing as she read about the different types of treatments and the possibility of growing out of it.

As the days turned into weeks, Sarah began to feel a strange mix of emotions. On one hand, she was grateful for her mother's support and the subtle changes in their nightly routine – the extra trips to the bathroom, the gentle reminders to drink less before bed. But on the other hand, she felt embarrassed and frustrated with herself. Her friends talked about their latest crushes and school drama, while she was dealing with something she thought she had left behind in childhood.

One evening, as she lay in bed, the crushing weight of her secret became too much. She looked over at the plastic pants and thick diapers her mother had bought, neatly folded on her nightstand. With a heavy sigh, she pulled one on, the material cold and unyielding against her skin. As she drifted off to sleep, she couldn't help but wonder if this was her new normal, if she would ever regain control over her own body again.