Being a parent is all about compromise. I come from Christian faith and Marc is Jewish. When we found out we were pregnant with Bradley, the first thing on our minds was whether or not his bologna pony was getting snipped or left alone. We went back and forth on the matter up until our son was born and on the cutting board. But then it hit me: if we could have a Christmas tree and a menorah for the holidays, why not meet in the middle when it comes to our son’s penis?
We informed hospital personnel that we were going to do a fifty-fifty type thing with our son’s circumcision. This way, Bradley can really be an balanced product of my husband and me. The staff in the maternity ward seemed confused and asked us to draw a diagram for clarification purposes. Our drawing showed that straight on, our son’s penis should look like two different penises -one circumcised and one sans incisions- mashed together.
The doctor performing the procedure insisted that what we were doing was “monstrous” and he felt “horribly uncomfortable disfiguring a baby”, but we named the right price and he moved forward. A crisp, under-the-table 20 dollar bill goes a long way. My son’s penis will be a perfect representation of Marc’s and my marriage of ideals, and no overly-humane doctor is going to get in the way of that.
Yes, I realize there is a chance my son will be taunted in the locker room for being a little different than the other boys. My son getting bullied for his warped wiener is a chance I had to take for my marriage to feel comfortable.
As Bradley gets older, I’m relatively confident that he will grow to love his halfie. Many people have a preference on whether or not their partner is circumcised, and my Bradley will please either way. If dick pics still exist in Bradley’s adulthood, his will certainly stand out and his strangely-shaped package will allow for a wide range of options.
More than anything, Marc and I are so happy to feel equal in our journey as parents. Although our son’s dong is arguably botched, it is a symbol of healthy communication between my husband and me. While our son’s penis is just a tiny emblem of our fear of conflict now, someday, he’ll be a grown man, and it’ll be his issue to deal with.