Laughing All the Way to the Mosque by Zarqa Nawaz

Author:Zarqa Nawaz [Nawaz, Zarqa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781443416955
Publisher: HarperCollins Canada
Published: 2014-06-24T06:00:00+00:00

Coming Full Circle on Circumcision

I held my newborn son for the first time. He was rounder and calmer than his sisters but had the same intoxicating odour of a newborn. He was a healthy ten pounds, which had been a more challenging delivery than the girls. As I admired him, I noticed something amiss.

“Sami, look at his penis. It’s deformed—like a worm. Did you know your family had this genetic defect, because none of the men in my family have it.”

My husband looked at me with incredulity for a moment. “That is what an uncircumcised penis looks like,” he said drily.

“Really?” I knew Muslim men were circumcised, but I had never seen an uncircumcised penis, since all the penises in my life were Muslim. “I just gave birth to my very first uncircumcised penis,” I said.

Maysa and Inaya came into the hospital room to see their new brother. Inaya was instantly jealous, so I gave the baby to Sami while I held her. Maysa watched Sami change Rashad’s diaper. “His belly button is in the wrong place,” said Maysa, in awe of his oddly placed anatomy.

My mother, who had come to Calgary for the last month of my pregnancy, however, was not in awe.

“Book the circumcision right away,” she said.

“But we don’t circumcise girls,” I tried to argue.

“Girls is wrong, boys is right.”

“Can we at least talk about it?”

“You can talk about it all you want,” said my mother. “But he’s getting circumcised.”

I was worried. I’d heard horror stories.

“Maha told me that her friend’s great-uncle’s third cousin once removed had his penis charred like a hot dog roasted too long on a campfire,” I told Sami, trying to get him on board with at least rethinking the whole process. A newborn’s penis is tiny and delicate, and there’s not a lot of room for mistakes.

But Sami had been circumcised and he wasn’t worried.

“The process is pretty simple,” he said. “It’s very rare for things to go wrong.”

The hospital recommended Dr. Weiner, who was one of the best circumcision men in the city. As soon as we entered the office, his secretary pounced.

“The doctor’s name is pronounced ‘Wayner,’ not ‘Weener,’” she told me helpfully. Wayner, wayner, wayner. I repeated the name several times in my head so I wouldn’t screw it up. But all I could think of was burnt-up wieners.

She took us into the doctor’s office, where I was instructed to remove Rashad’s diaper and give him liquid Tylenol. I took a mental picture of the worm penis, which I was getting very attached to.

A kind-looking doctor entered the room.

“Hello, my name is Dr. Weiner,” he said.

“Have you ever lost a penis?” I asked pensively.

“I’m sorry about my wife,” said Sami.

“No worries. I get this a lot. No, I’ve never lost a penis on my watch, and he won’t feel any pain,” he answered patiently, clearly used to hysterical mothers worried about their infant sons’ tiny bits.

Dr. Weiner pulled out a small metal device that looked like a guillotine for a mouse.

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