Dear Sunshine,
It has been a very very long time since I have written about encopresis. My son started with soiling at the age of 4 and a half (up until then he was clean and dry, day and night) and it continued until the age of 13 and a half. Nine whole years. If you are interested I can tell you more. But although in rare cases it is psychologically based, or maybe due to having been sexually molested as a child, the most common cause of soiling is simply constipation. I know this because other members of my family (grandchildren, actually) also had this, and my daughter was lucky in finding a doctor who dealt with it immediately in the way it should be dealt with -- 2 different sorts of medication, one which makes the stool softer, and one which causes the peristalsis to get going (peristalsis is the intestines moving the poop down through). Yes, simply constipation.
Now, I really don't want to go into it all over again. My child is today 33, almost 34, and although things aren't perfect, they are better than I ever thought they would be. I discovered from a support group (which unfortunately no longer exists, but it really helped me then, it was on e-mails) that the theory is that the soiling more often than not disappears with puberty. My husband used to try and force my son to clean himself and the clothes, but I couldn't cope with the tension and the anger etc. So I used a different attitude: I made sure there was a really good supply of underpants and pants, my son showered and changed his clothes and left the dirty ones for me to deal with. Which I did. I wanted it that way, because at least that way we had a little more peace in our lives. I also gradually came to realise that it really wasn't his fault, for many reasons. I made a point of loving him, of cuddling him, of getting on well with him. We were lucky, and it just disappeared more or less overnight. I could write masses more, but I'm not sure I can cope with it emotionally. So I wish you the very best of luck, and please let us know how you get on.
Love, Esther