Did your mother ever talk about enemas she’d received?

Wondering I was unique in this regard or if others‘ mothers (or fathers) talked at all about enemas they’d received growing up.

I can think of two circumstances growing up when my mother told me about her enemas. She was very much committed to solidarity, for lack of a better term, and always said she would never ask me to do anything that she hadn’t done first. Along those lines, when I was very young she would “take my mind off my enema” by telling me about ones she’d received as a girl. According to these stories, her mother was apparently strict about hold times and if she or her brother didn’t hold their enemas the prescribed time, they would be required to take twice as many bulbs in a second round and hold them twice as long. She would relate how when she was trying to hold her enemas, her brother would always tease her and try to get additional enemas administered by standing on his head and making funny faces to make her laugh and make her enema harder to hold. In those days “average” houses were quite small and rarely had more than one bathroom.

The second instance was when I was given what was, as far as I can remember, my first and only M&M enema by her. I’m not sure why she felt I needed or was told to give me an M&M. She told me that in order to be able to tell me what to expect, she’d asked my grandmother to give her an M&M (talk about solidarity!). She was able to explain that it would feel very warm, that it was easy to take but difficult to hold, and to run to the bathroom as soon as my “tummy started to grumble” because when her M&M took effect, she’d almost had an accident before being able to get on the potty.

At family gatherings, at some point, the topic of enemas always seemed to surface. My mother and her sisters ("the Coven") would openly discuss their own experiences and enemas given to their children. Her mother, my grandmother was obviously a believer in the healing powers of the enema and treated her eight children often - at least that is what it seemed like from the conversation.

There was little concern for the feelings of embarrassed children.

@jekyll_doctor The propensity of some adults to talk about their children's very personal issues with other parents or relatives is quite amazing.

The only time I can relate to my mother talking to me about an enema that she had been given occurred as a result of my literal begging her to give me one. Mom asked me why I wanted one so bad! I told her! Then, she told me that enemas were not toys! That they hurt! And, finally, they were embarrassing as hell! Then, she went on to tell me that the only one she had ever had occurred right before she had me and that if someone ever tried to do that to her again that they’d have to catch her and that was not going to happen because she was fast !

My mother never talked about the enemas she gave herself or any she received from her mother and I never asked. I am 99% sure she received enemas from her mother as a little girl and that is how she learned to give enemas to her kids like me and my brothers. Although it was not a secret when my brothers or I got an enema it was not something talked about.

No enemas in my family but mom alluded to the soap sticks she received and their unpleasantness

I never knew her.

Her younger sister was witness to a lot of things that went on, including some of the real abuse. She will talk about it, but she doees not want to “hit me with too much at once” despite my assurances that it's OK!

Her other young sister, who was then her brother, and transitioned after she left, is less willing to talk to me. I am convinced she knows more about my Mom's whereabouts than she is saying and they might have even lived together during his/her transition when I would have been in high school.

Back in the late 1940's I remember my mom talking to a woman who lived down the hall from us about the enema she got going into the hospital for childbirth. Seemed that talking about that enema was an ice-breaker to get into enema conversations with the women she knew.

I had a conversation with my mother regarding enemas, she never got them. She never gave them to my sister or myself. My father was also raised without enemas. They decided early on that they would raise us without enemas and no corporal punishment; no spankings.

My mom wasn't shy about discussing enemas with anyone, least of all, with us kids. I suppose in some respects, she was trying to convince us that getting an enema wasn't that unusual or something to be ashamed of. Sometimes, her comments about enemas seemed threatening and she could relate circumstances when she had to have an enema(s) herself. I also recall her telling us that dad had to go to the doctor quite often for an enema of chalk, due to a disease of some sort. She told us of several hospital experiences including during labor and other other procedures.

As I got older, when mom announced she was going to take enemas for an impending procedure, or that the doctor told her to give myself, or one of my sisters an enema, the buzz that I felt was unbelievable. Those involuntary reactions were in overdrive. Talk about a rush of adrenaline or endorphins.

In the mid-1970s, Mom went into the hospital for a series of tests. That was common in those days; no insurance hassles. She was having constant abdominal pains, and one of the tests was a barium enema.

My dad and I visited her on the afternoon after she had the test. She was telling us how nice everyone was, but the laxative and enemas till clear they gave the night before and then the barium test made her so sore!! After she got home, she used to talk about how uncomfortable it was. I hoped that I wouldn’t ever have to go through that. Little did I know that years later … I’ve already told that story here. My BE wasn’t fun either.

Mom and Grandma talked freely about their enemas. and the ones they gave to us. Enemas were an open (and popular) topic in our house, and frequently at the dinner table.Lisa and I rarely talked about them, unless she was sharing the details of a session with one of her friends. We didn't need to talk, because we almost always did each other. So, the only conversations where “Want one?" or "I want one."

Mother talked about them all the time. Additionally she enjoyed giving them, usually for health reasons. she would be warm and gentle when she inserted the nozzle. I think she like putting it into me chubby rear end

My Father, who is my single parent, has said very little beyond the parts I have posted over the years, either about his lown enemas or my Mom's.

Clearly, before they even met, they had some of the same preferences.

They both preferred the closed-top, Hot-Water-bottle style bags

My Mom's bags were mostly bought in her native Canada, they were 2 Imperial quarts, slightly MORE than 2 liters.

Dad's bags were all 2-US quarts, slightly less than 2 liters.

Things have trickled out over the years, sorta like trying to hold an enema too long!

They had very different history when it came to enema use.

Mom got enemas from her mother and grandmother almost from the time she was born.

Dad's Mom(My only still-living grandparent) already had the mental illness that makes her almost impossible to deal with today, and she was vicious in her opposition to enemas, at least for boys. He only had the one much younger brother.

He WAS able to listen in one time as his Mom over the phone walked one of the neighbor moms through giving her daughter, whom Dad always described as “cute” through an enema!!

Dad sensed the hypocrisy and that affected their relationship forever more. It is those twinges of bitterness that still filter what I get out of him now

He just revealed a couple of days ago that it was not until their fourth enema session together that he was actually able to give her an enema!

The first session, which ran 29 hours with neither one eating or sleeping, was essentially Mom, fully clothed, makeup still on, telling Dad the story of most of the enemas she could remember getting. She then removed her makeup, stripped down and put on a simple pink knee-length nightgown and essentially demonstrate how she did enemas till clear. always AFTER also taking large quantities of oral laxatives! Dad says it was “clearly a purge, I just didn't recognize it at the time!"

My mom never disclosed details of enemas she received from her mom, my grandmother, other than acknowledging she did get them. She told me she got enemas when she was a child to calm my fears as she was trying to give one to me.

Like others here, when it was enema time, perhaps in sympathy before, encouragement during, or comfort afterwards, mom would sometimes tell me of enemas she'd had growing up as well as ones she'd been given as an adult, or ones she'd taken herself. The plan, likely, was to let me know she understood how I felt. She knew emotionally what it was like to be given an enema and she knew all about the discomfort, embarrassment. Reassure me I wasn't alone. She'd also tell me about other enemas she was aware of, had given, been given. I'm sure another reason would be to distract me from my own plight which she did.

One time I overheard my foster aunt talking to her church lady friend who would often visit. Usually it was for my aunt to give her an enema, but this time it was just for a cup tea and a chat. Anyhow they soon got to enema talk and her friend asked her did she get enemas from her mother when she was young.

She told her she got enemas from both her mother and grandmother. There was a big enema can kept in the wash house and that’s where they did it; on the ironing table. There was a screened off area with no door at one end of the wash house for the toilet.

Her grandmother’s enemas were the ones she dreaded. The enema can would always be full of hot very soapy water and it wouldn’t stop until the can was empty and her bowels were full to aching.

She told her that even though she was sometimes crying from being made to hold the enema, she would be picked up and put on the toilet, and with no privacy was usually watched by her grandmother. When she was finished, she would always have to lean forward while her bottom was wiped.

@Soapy4me said,

Lisa and I rarely talked about them, unless she was sharing the details of a session with one of her friends. We didn't need to talk, because we almost always did each other. So, the only conversations where “Want one?" or "I want one."

My siblings an I were taught to take care of ourselves as preteens by our RN grandmother. Afterwards, within a couple of months, we were giving each other enemas after school in the afternoon and talking amongst ourselves about enemas. Occasionally, some of our friends would asked, if we got enemas after seeing the bag hanging in the bedroom. We acknowledged getting enemas, but not much beyond that. About a year later, my girlfriend having seen the douche/enema bag with attached nozzle hanging in the bathroom shower, asked my sister to give her a couple of enemas. She’d started her period that day and was having cramps. My sister understood and the two girls disappeared for an hour or so. Once in the bathroom, my sister gave her two enemas, one soapy an one rinse using the douche nozzle. She liked it because it went in deep and liked moving it around once the water was flowing in. She also told my girlfriend about our activities together after school. My brother an I giving her enemas when requested and, likewise, her giving my brother an I enemas on request. She also told my girlfriend, “next time you need a couple of enemas, you need to ask my brother (meaning me). You’ll liked it, I do. He gives really good enemas.” A couple of months later she did exactly that, and we swapped enemas with each other until we graduated from High School.

At grandmas, even after we were on our own, grandma an our aunts (mainly our aunts) still gave us enemas when visiting, mostly during the evening at bath time. Those two girls liked their enemas as much as we did. We were new teenagers and they were older teenagers moving into their twenties. They gave themselves as well as us, enemas every change they got, just like we did needed or not.

As for mom talking about enemas, she didn’t with us, but she did with grandma. The funny thing was, mom hated enemas and her two sisters didn’t, they liked enemas as much as my siblings and I did. When it came to doing enemas, there wasn’t that much verbal communications between us, it was for the most part nonverbal. We could look at one another and know we’d be doing enemas together soon. When we were younger, grandma had the two girls give us enemas and a bath in the evenings. As we got older the practice continued, using evening bath time for enemas and a shower, especially during the summer.