Zev, the author of this poem, felt the need to write it after learning of the tragedy in Pittsburgh. For Zev, he thought immediately of the little boy whose bris it was that Shabbat morning and wrote…this in his honor. Dedicated to the baby who was to be named at the Tree of Life Synagogue in Pittsburgh, PA on Shabbat morning, October 27, 2018. Little boy, what’s your name – do you have one? Sweet baby, just eight days, what should we call you? I have heard the sacred circumcision postponed… >> Read More
Almost nine years ago, I sat in my hospital bed googling “mohels.” I was a few hours postpartum, and though an anatomy scan at 20 weeks had given me a pretty good idea of what was to come, I…hadn’t really done anything to prepare for the bris I was going to be hosting in eight short days. To be honest, my lack of planning was partly due to vacillating between some pretty typical pushes and pulls; things like not seeing the need for a medically unnecessary procedure done on a newborn with no… >> Read More
It seems like the bris ceremony may be going out of style (albeit very slowly). The bris, which is the ritual circumcision of Jewish boys at eight days old, is one of Judaism's oldest…traditions. The ritual is first seen in the Torah when Abraham circumcises himself and then his firstborn son--so you know, it's been a pretty big deal for millennia. But according to this week's New York Times piece by Rebecca Wald, many parents are beginning to wonder if the bris ceremony is really necessary. Wald, the founder of Beyond… >> Read More
Oh my God, we’re going to have to get him circumcised.
That was literally my first thought when the ultrasound tech told us we were having a boy. There I was, laying half exposed, covered in…goop in a glorified closet, watching my husband practically jump for joy, and all I could think was that I’d have to have a surgical procedure performed in my living room on my newborn eight days after giving birth. Congratulations, new mom! There was never any question that we would circumcise our son. My husband… >> Read More
“Do you want to know the gender?” the eager genetic counselor asked on the other end of the phone line.
I momentarily considered doing what my husband and I had discussed—asking her to call…me back and leave a voicemail, so that we could both listen to the news together. But the pragmatic and impatient me won out over the romantic, and I simply said, “Sure.” “It’s a boy!” I could practically hear the virtual champagne bottles popping and balloons floating in her voice, as she anticipated shrieks of… >> Read More