Jewish law is never without complex questions and interpretations, and often even controversy. It should come as no surprise that planning this bris was no exception to grappling with complexity and controversy, given the entire pregnancy and birth experience. Basic rule of the bris - it's strictly performed on the 8th day of a boy's life and no earlier (it may be delayed for health reasons, if necessary). And if that 8th day happens to be Shabbat or a holy day, the commandment to perform the bris trumps the prohibition of work on those days. Great! So the baby was born on Thursday morning - which happened to be the first day of Sukkot - and 8 days later was the following Thursday, which happened to be Shemini Atzeret. Bris trumps chag...simple, right?
Except...
Oh yeah, babies born by c-section do not apply. Huh?
Turns out babies born by c-section do not experience "birth" in the (Jewish) legal sense because they do not pass through the birth canal (I actually knew this already). Therefore, not only is there no commandment that the bris take place on the 8th day, but it is actually forbidden to do so on Shabbat or a holy day because it would be considered work. So the bris would take place the next day that is not a holy day...in our case, that would have been the next Sunday, 11 days after his birth, because we had back to back to back holidays and Shabbat. Oy.
Mike and I were very uncomfortable with this notion, and thus consulted our many rabbi friends. Some had never really heard of this rule, and believed it should be on the 8th day regardless, and others had never really encountered this dilemma in their rabbinic careers (none of which is longer than about 2 years). We spoke to a couple Orthodox rabbi mohels, who confirmed they would not perform the bris until Sunday, even though our own egalitarian yet traditional rabbi was fine with doing it on the 8th day. This was getting frustrating...if for no other reason, we had a party to plan and little time to make it happen.
I admit I was pretty confused about what to do. I really like traditional Judaism, even with all of its quirks and laws that often don't seem to make a lick of sense. And I typically don't believe in watering down something or making up my own interpretation of a law just so that it's more convenient for me and my lifestyle. I love the inherent struggle that we encounter when it comes to Jewish law and figuring out how to live meaningful lives in accordance with our tradition. So here I was, stuck between wanting an 8-day bris for my son (who did not choose to be born by c-section) and wanting to follow the law telling me I would have to wait 11 days.
I called another mohel, who was not a rabbi but a urologist and had done brit milot for other friends and community members, to see what he would do. We had a great conversation about the whole scenario, and found that his philosophy was much more in line with Mike's and mine. He took a much more egalitarian approach that looked at the bigger picture of the birth experience. He believed that if the c-section was not scheduled, an 8-day bris should be performed. The baby chose to enter the world when it did, and that is what should be the deciding factor. This made me feel a lot better because not only did he arrive before he was scheduled to, the c-section was not even elective so I wouldn't have been able to avoid it regardless. The mohel further believed that even if a baby was born vaginally but labor was electively induced, that he would not do the 8-day bris on a chag because the baby was not born according to when it was meant to. This was a philosophy that made much more sense to Mike and I and, more importantly, to our rabbi who would be presiding over the rest of the ceremony. (Though in typical Kim fashion, I was having doubts the day before wondering if we made the right decision!)
So on the 8th day of his life, we held the brit milah for our son. It was an exhilerating morning. We were in the beautiful sukkah in the exquisite backyard garden of our dear friend and neighbor Lori, the sun was shining (but not too oppressively hot as the last few days had been), and we were surrounded by our family and friends. It could not have been more perfect. Andy, the mohel, described how it's traditional to hold a bris first thing in the morning because then you have the whole day to bask in the joy and celebration of the moment. This could not have been more true, as I was glowing for the rest of the day. He handled the circumcision great - cried, and then was immediately comforted when he was placed back in my arms - and there were many touching moments that I won't soon forget. Great Grandpa Howard as the sandek - 4 generations! - holding him, my mom's audible gasp upon hearing his name spoken aloud for the first time, and looking out at the smiles and tears of everyone who was there to witness the occasion. You can click below to read about how we chose his name:
We spent the rest of the morning noshing on bagels and sweets, and calling sweet Sidney by his name. Oh and of course many, many photos were taken (no way I could tell my dad that photography was not allowed on chag!)...see below, and more on Facebook:
And then, because we are whores for being honored (not really, well except maybe Ivy who was fresh off the heels from her now famous Big Sister Dance), we received an aliyah on Shabbat two days later at IKAR. This was also a highlight of the week - the parsha was Bereshit, in the beginning. We started reading the Torah again from the very first line. We were called up, and the community was also invited up to watch this first aliyah being read, as it only happens once every three years. The moment was quite profound - it was a new beginning indeed. We were all starting the narrative over again, this time one year later, and one year wiser. We had a new baby who was at the very beginning of his journey, and of whom I am deeply in awe. The baby that surprised us, time and again, was here...I don't know what we did to deserve this great gift of a new life, or what any person who has ever lived has done to deserve life, but I know that Sidney has a real reason for being in this world and I can't wait to continue learning what it is.
Mike was opposed, but I really wanted to do month pictures with Sidney, something I never really did with Ivy. (He's just pissed because I forgot to take his 373 month picture last month.) People on the message boards I used to go on when Ivy was a baby always took those pictures, but holding up a crappy-made sign, scribbled in pencil on the back of a used envelope or something, "So-and-so is 3 months old today!" I swore if I ever did that I wouldn't do a sign, so I found these cute stickers instead. There's one for each month (duh) and you just stick it on a plain onesie. Bam!
