Crying when getting an enema as a child

I was only given a couple of enemas as a child. My father was my only parent. He took the time to explain how everything was going to work, and what was going to happen before starting.

The first time, I must have been 4. Dad came into the living room carrying a red bulb, with a black nozzle. He said it had been in his house as long as he could remember. It was about 4 oz. I think he still has it around somewhere. He set it on the coffee table, called me over, He handed me the bulb, let me handle it, and let me squeeze it. I could do anything with it. He then asked for it back.

He took it, and squeezed it just a little. He said, "This is how we are going to MAKE your body poop, whether it WANTS to or not! I am going to fill this bulb with some soapy warm water. You know how I will get the soapy water in there?" I shook my head "No" He held the bulb like he was holding it in a jar, squeezed it up flat, and let it refill He said, "Like this! You will have to lay in a position that I know is not very comfortable, but you will have to sty in it. I will try to make it as easy as possible. We'll do this on your bed, where you are already comfortable. You can hold any of your stuffed animals that you want. Do you know what this black part is for?" I said, "No." He said, "This is the part that has to go inside you. In your rear end. It doesn't usually hurt, I will take it as slow and easy as I can. If it hurts, tell me, and I will take it out and try again. It DOES have to go all the way up to where the red part starts. Do you know why that is?" I just shook my head, "No" There Is a muscle just inside your bottom that you have control of, and that you can tighten up to keep things out of your bottom. The reason it has to go all the way in, is so that it is above that muscle. So that, once it is in, what's inside the bulb is going inside you as soon as someone squeezes the bulb, and there will be nothing you can do about it. You CAN control whether or not it hurts! If you relax, and don't try to push the black part out, that is a very big part of keeping it from hurting. The more you fight it, the more it's going to hurt. If you don't fight, and just go along, it usually won't hurt. If it does, it will be just a little bit. Not enough to send you screaming and crying, just enough that you want to say 'OW' a couple of times and then it's gone. I will have to keep putting soapy water in you until you feel full, but not painfully full. So you will have to tell me when to stop. Once the soapy water feels full but not too full, that's when it's up to you. I will stop putting the stuff in you. and you need to tell me what you are feeling. You need to make sure you stay in that position, as tempting as it will be to bounce around. You also need to keep your hands and your stuffed animals off your tummy. In a couple of minutes, maybe right away, you will start to feel like you have to poop. Then the feeling will go away. Then it will come back. Maybe stronger, maybe weaker. It will do that a few times over the next couple of minutes, You will feel your tummy rumbling, and probably hear it as well. There will come a time when you just can't hold it nay more, no matter how hard you try. When that happens, but NOT before it happens, you need to run to the toilet. Sit on the toilet, and let it come as fast as it wants to. Don't try any more to hold it back, and don't try too hard to push it out. We will both probably be surprised by how much poop, water and soap all mixed together, really comes out. We Will have to do that twice, but I hope we will ONLY have to do it twice. I'll know when the second one comes out if we have to do it three times. I hope we don't. You NEED to understand, that this is NOT something either of us will LIKE doing. It's not something you do for fun. you do it when it needs to be done. This bulb is NOT a toy. It's not something you play with the rest of the time. Do you have any questions?" I said, "Daddy, have YOU ever had to get this done to you?" He said, "When your Mom and I were together, we used to give each other enemas. Since she has left, I've had to do it to myself sometimes." He said, "Stay right there a minute!" He headed toward the bathroom.

He showed up a moment later with a big bag I now know to be a 3-qt, filled with water. He knelt down right beside me. He held it up to his tummy, and he said,"This is what I use to give myself enemas. I have a hose to connect it to a nozzle and that nozzle gores inside me. Your Mom had a different one, a little smaller that she had to use." he then held the bulb up to my tummy, and said, "See the difference? It's not easy being a grown up!" He then runs back to the bathroom, and emptied the water out of it. When he came back in the living room, he said, "Anything you want to know?" I said, " When I'm a grown up, will I have to use a bag like that? He said, "Probably, but there is no way to know right now. It won't be for several more years anyway, so don't worry about it now."

He then looked me in the eye, put his hand on my shoulder, and said, "Now you have a choice to make, are we going to do this easy, without a lot of crying and fighting, or do it hard? Not doing it is NOT among the choices! I know you won't LIKE it, nobody does,I don't exactly WANT to do this to you. It's no fun for either of us, and it probably never will be. You can either work with me and do it as easy as possible, and make it hurt as little as possible, or you can fight me, and work against making it sure that it will hurt a lot!" I said, "I don't want to!" He said, "Neither do I! It is the sort of thing that that is not done often, and it would be best for a mom to do, when it does need to be done, but there is no mom here to help us, so we will have to get through it the best way we can. let's get started!" He got up, pulled me up by the shoulders and said, "Nobody ever WANTS to do this, least of all a kid, but we gotta do it, so let's do it as easy as possible!" He was already leading me down the hall. he said, "I am going to let you watch me mix the water and soap, and I am going to let you see me fill the bulb. That will make you less scared. I was scared my first couple of times, and I was even more scared the first time I gave one to your mom, but it worked out OK, it always does." He got a pitcher out from under the sink, and a big Rubbermaid jug with a screw top, and a bar of soap floating in it. It looked like that bar of soap had been floating there a while. He shook it around, and poured a little of it in the pitcher. He then got an old wooden spoon, like the one in the kitchen out of the bathroom drawer, and let the water under the tap get warm He filled that pitcher, and stirred it up until the soap and the water were well mixed. He squeezed the bulb as tight as he could, He then put the bulb, up to the top of the nozzle in the pitcher, and let it fill up.

He then carried them both into my bedroom. he sat them down on my desk. I was wearing what was basically a sun dress. he moved my pillow almost to the center of the bed, and pealed the covers the rest of the way back. He said, "This is why I haven't made your bed yet. I find it more comfortable to put my feet under the covers, but that's up to you" He said, "Take off your shoes, tights, and panties, and kneel on this pillow." He then showed me how to get into the knee-chest position, and said, "Any questions I haven't answered well?" I said, "NO!" He said, "Are you scared?" I said, "a little." He said, "that is actually good, because then you won't try to do this when it's not needed." He said, I Know it's not easy in that position, but it's important to relax as much as you can. Now remember, if you don't resist, it WILL be easier! There is no certainty that it won't hurt at all, but if it hurts a lot one or both of us made a BOO-BOO!"

I took 3 bulbs full. held the first one almost 10 minutes. The second one, I took two bulbs full and held it again nearly 10 minutes. Dad coached and encouraged me all through the process. Just like he said, it hurt a little but not a lot. I whimpered a couple of times but I never cried.

I find it hard to imagine that having it explained to you would make it any less dreadful when you were a kid

All the usual pleadings that Emom made, and just as unsuccessful. Quiet sobs eventually, but at 7 I was rewarded with control of the snap clamp.

The first enema that I remember was with a bag and not a squeeze bulb. I remember that the process was explained to me and the reason I needed one. However being only 3 lor 4 years old, all that made no difference and I still begged not to get it and may of cried a little, all to no avail. I got through that first one ok and believe that it, and some rectal temps probably started my Medical fetish.

I'm sure I creid when I received enemas as a child. They hurt! I got enemas when I was sick, if I had a fever to bring it down, or if I hadn't had a bm the day before. I remember my mom telling me that I should take the enema from her rather than from my dad. She said she wouldn't give me as much.

Several years later, she had to take enemas almost daily after prolonged hospital visits. The bag hung in the bathroom all the time. That was when I started experimenting when home alone. I found enemas weren't so bad after all! I have enjoyed them and found them erotic ever since. The internet has only increased my enjoyment and appreciation of the enema and those who enjoy them.

I am sure that there were a lot of tears with all the enemas my mother gave me as a kid. She would give me very warm very soapy enemas and I had to take the whole bag, hold it for a few minutes before being allowed to run to the potty to expell. Mom would sit on the side of the tub with me sitting on the potty. I would bend over and lay my head in her lap and cry from the terrible cramps that all that soapy water gave me. She would tell me that it hurt so badly because I was so constipated and really needed the enema she had given me. While I was sitting there trying to expel the first enema that she had given me, she would be mixing up more soapy water and refilling the bag to give me more enemas to get me cleaned out good. I had to have more soapy water put in me until until I expelled nothing but soapy water and then had to have one or two plain water enemas to get the soap out and stop the terrible cramps I was still having. I was pretty well constipated most of the time and got lots of her big soapy enemas. Mom took enemas too, but not nearly as many or as often as she gave them to me.

I cried blood murder once when a nurse gave me a bulb enema. I couldn't have been more that 3 or 4. I don't remember if I was in the hospital or if it was at the children's clinic, but I do remember it being very uncomfortable when the nurse squeezed the bulb. She had me laying on my back and was holding my ankles together with my legs pushed back. It felt like she was pushing the nozzle in as far as it would go, then the strong surge of warm water that made my belly hurt more and more with each insertion. It's amazing I like enemas after enduring that.

Do others agree with me that part of the problem could be that we weren't given any sort of explanation of what we were about to be be given, assured we'd feel better and even help fill the bulb. bag or can? No wonder we had to be held down, legs up while cryng and helpless.

That looks good on paper, but once the soapsuds starts flowing,most of us had other ideas!!

I had similar experiences to what Dan had. My first ones were scary and they hurt. I got them if I missed a bm or if I had a fever and all the other medical reasons. As I grew older my mom made up reasons, she loved giving me enemas. I also received quite a few from my step-dad as I got older. He got quite excited when he gave them to me. Eventually I grew to enjoy them and still do today.

I to screamed and cried while getting enemas until I was around 10, then I calmed down and then became passive. Mom thought I matured but my grandma knew better. She realized I liked them and she started to give them t5o me if I asked (unbeknownst to mom)

My mother would say i'm going to give you a niece warm soap suds enema tocleane your bowels out.Mom had a red Davol enema bag with red hose and a black enema nozzel.I would have to lay on moms lap that she covered with a pink fleecy fuzzy soft warm blanket when she gave me an enema.I love blanket and enemas to this day.That wasin the 1940's and 50's when enema bags were every where.

As soon as my mother would tell me that she needed to use the syringe on me the crying would begin. I would beg and plead for her not to as she prepared the soapsuds. The smell of Ivory soap would fill the bathroom as she explained that it was for my own good and that I would feel better after we were done. I would begin to sob as she placed me face down on a towel on the bathroom floor. The crying really began as she stuck the nozzle up me butthole and squeezed the bulb, squirting the hot soapsuds up into my bowels. I would cry and beg her to stop as she continued to syringe me until she was satisfied that I had taken enough to clean me out. Tears were running down my cheeks as I expelled into the toilet.

I cryed and begged as I began to fill up, and Mom would say "Just a little bit more." but it was always a lot more. I think Mom new to stop the enema when I sceamed , and she always made sure the screams were real!

My mom gave me only one enema, at 3. I remember, I was laid on my stomach. She gave the enema with red bulb - black nozzle - chamomile tea combination. When she put the nozzle into me, I began crying and cried like the rain.

The reason of my reaction was partly physical and partly psychological. In one hand it was very painful. On the other hand it was unexpected, I felt cheated and humiliated.

Cheated and humiliated - exactly, cheated out of self-possession, security. Humiliated by the excremental area being suddenly "brought to life"

Children were brought up to obey without question - if your parents decided an enema or suppository was to be given to you, it was always " for your own good ". If you resisted or protested unduly, a good spanking soon dealt with your "nonsense" before proceeding. A little different today?

As soon as I felt something slide into me and I felt the pressure go in as mom squezzed the bulb, I cried loudly and screamed so loud that everyone in the house knew what was happening.

But around 10 or 11, I calmed down (to my mom's utter amazement).. After a few more enemas, all I did was squirm around.

The only result of the enemas I received as a child was the development of an absolute obsession to give them to others (of the female gender). I haven't had one myself for years but have given plenty...

I have found in my nursing career that the older guys when I ask them have you ever had a enema before would respond like a little boy and say yes many years ago from my mom. I also have found this age group very submissive and obliging to receiving an enema. I have never administered one that the patient has not said thankyou several times. I do not think they were sexually aroused vs felling a nuturing effect from having a nurse give them their enema.

What You say is true for me, Ginnie. There is a deep intimacy involved when a woman gives a man an enema. There's some sexual feelings, but most of the appeal is psychological. A Karma point for You!!

I cried with every enema when I was young. Later on I tricked my mom into giving the enemss and I enjoyed them. It is still A turn on to cry when I give myself an enema it turns me on.. I have no excuse but if it makes me cum it's a good thing.

Can't remember crying, though it almost certainly happened. Certainly didn't want it and can remember putting up a terrible fuss.

As a child my mom and sometimes my dad gave me enemas for a cold or other sickness. My first remembrance was not knowing what an enema was, so I cried because I didn't know what to expect. About the third time I was given an enema I secretly enjoyed the feeling of a nozzle being pushed into my rectum, but I didn't want mom to know so I cried to hide my erotic feeling. I also started experiencing my cunny became moist also. When I got older I sneaked enemas when my parents were not home using the bag that hung behind the bathroom door.

Children under about 4 or 5 don't understand enough of what's going on. All they know is it feels uncomfortable and/or scared. That's why they cry. They cry when something bothers them or something scares them.

I'm guessing because my mother was very gentle with the Ivory SSE's she gave me as a child, I never cried, nor do I remember ever not wanting to receive an enema. There was never anything negative about the entire procedure, which I suppose is one reason that I still enjoy them today.....over 60 years later. It's unfortunate that so many children had such unpleasant and negative experiences with the enemas their parents gave them.

When I was a child, (man years ago) our pediatrician was a big believer in enemas. As far as he was concerned there was nothing an enema wouldn't cure. As a result was I got lots of enemas. I cried, resisted and generally carried on, but I still got the enema. I was scared of them because they were mysterious and hurt and I was embarrassed lying there naked with my mother fiddling with my asshole, It wasn't until I was in my mid-teens that for some reason I became fascinated by enemas and started giving them to myself in secret. Of course, I thought I was the only person on the planet that actually liked enemas (I'm sure we all went through that stage) so I never told a sole. Even today, 50 years later, I still love enemas. Fortunately, I now have an enema buddy who likes to give and we meet on a regular basis for him to clean me out. If he's unavailable when I "feel the need" I give them to myself, but solo isn't nearly as good as an understanding giver.

I loved my childhood enemas. I always wanted more. I let my mother know that, early and often. I only got them when I was really constipated. So, they always hurt much, expelling, so I always cried. I loved them anyway. Perhaps my mother didn't give them to me often because I cried while expelling. If she'd given them to me for fun,as I wanted, She could have seen me exclaiming for joy. Oh well.

I never had a problem because it was explained to me why and how it would be done. And instead of it being done by someone else I was allowed and guided in how to do it myself, insert the nozzle, and to open and close the clamp depending on how I felt. When I closed the clamp too early, I was urged to be strong and open it again, but it was at my own pace and never forced. So enemas never bothered me and I actually liked the feeling of being clean and empty afterward.

AmyK--you were so fortunate to have an enlightened enema giving mother. I wish my experiences had been that nice. Thanks for writing.

hankb