This is Dawn's interview with a man who went through the Hatafat Dam Brit.  The comments in bold are hers.

I was struck by how mysterious this procedure feels and the lack of information around it so I asked someone I know to tell me about his experience of hatafat dam.  He agreed.

Not exactly a topic I like to revisit, Dawn... But for you, here's the story.

The most painful part of the process was writing the check to the mohel.  The actual procedure was a walk in the park - I didn't feel a thing.  My mohel was Rabbi Chanan Feld, of blessed memory. 

One thing to consider is the time in between the hatafat dam and the mikvah - when you are technically in this weird nexus of not a Jew but not-not a Jew either.  Strange. 

Dawn: What was the level of pain?

Zero physical pain.  This is more info than you probably care to know, but the mohel draws blood from the scar tissue on the man's penis, which isn't near the head.  Again, I'm not trying to be graphic or inappropriate, but you asked.   

Dawn: Where was it done?

It was performed at a house which I believe doubled as Rabbi Chanan Feld's office. Specifically, it was done in a room designed for little kids (Winnie-the-Pooh wallpaper was hung and toys were in the room).  Obviously no children were present, but still a little weird.

Dawn:  Was your rabbi with you?  Or did you go on your own?

I went on my own.  I'm sure if I’d asked my rabbi to be there, he would have, but it wasn't something I needed him there for.

Dawn: How did you get the contact information for the mohel?

I was given Rabbi Feld's contact info by my rabbi and told exactly what to ask for.  Rabbi Feld was very responsive.

Dawn: How much did it cost?

Feld charged $200 for him and $25 for each witness, which there were two. Total bill was $250.

Dawn's comment to us:  For everyone’s information, Rabbi Chanan Feld, of blessed memory, was a mohel by profession.  Not every doctor who performs the ceremony charges this amount.  Most of the men who emailed me said that they paid less.  For example, Dr. Piser, when asked about the cost, suggested that the man give a donation to Dr. Piser’s synagogue, Temple Beth Abraham.  The gentleman chose to give $50 to the shul.

 
 
While I was strongly encouraged to do a Hatafat Dam Brit, I was also told that my denomination (Renewal) would not require it.  After talking to a couple of other male converts who said that it was meaningful for them, I decided to do it.

Since the Rabbi that was guiding my conversion was female, we worked with a male Rabbi who could help with the Hatafat Dam and the mikveh.  Since he was not a Mohel, he asked a friend and more senior Conservative Rabbi who was a Mohel to supervise.  The senior Rabbi served as one of the witnesses, and two other males from his congregation were called in as witnesses.

I admit that I was completely out of my body for the whole experience, which was done after Mariv services at the senior Rabbi’s schul.  I was out of it since, honestly, hanging out the private parts in a Rabbi’s office in front of four other men was a bit much.  Thank heavens my mother told me to always wear good underwear with no holes.  The actual lancet (same as they use for diabetes tests on the finger) prick was negligible pain-wise, and the least of the considerations.  I barely remember the brief prayers or being presented with my certificate.  (And BTW, it did not hurt at all later—there was only a tiny scab the next day and then it was gone).

Immediately after my Brit, I was not sure how this could be meaningful to anyone.  I was feeling like it was a combination of a trip to the dentist and a somewhat embarrassing mishap from grammar school.

However, a few days later I was at my synagogue for Friday Shabbat services, and then I understood.  There was a profound sense of belonging that I had not quite ever felt before.  Not to go too mystical, but it felt like I was suddenly connected to the Patriarchs, that they were present, and that I was therefore a definite part of the family.  Nothing on the outside was different, only a few people in the room knew that I had undergone the Brit—but it made all the difference in the world to me.  I sang louder and davened more deeply is how I would express it, and ultimately, felt a deep sense of being welcomed into the family. 


KM