My Son's Bris Brought Me Back to Judaism

Before we converted our bedroom into a nursery, my wife, Elettra, worked at an old wooden desk adjacent to the casement window with views of the Dolomite mountains. The room was on the third floor, the vista one of the many reasons we decided to relocate from the States to her childhood home in northern Italy. But on a clear and sunny and objectively pleasant day in September 2019, she was threatening to jump out that window. Our son had been born not two weeks prior. At the hospital, Elettra asked the nurse about circumcision. (My Italian was non va bene; hers, being an Italian, was ottimo.) The nurse replied that the hospital did not perform circumcision unless it was a medical necessity. And this was not.