"A midwife does this?"

"Well, she used to be a midwife. Now she says she only does circumcisions, that this is more symbolic and fulfilling to her than delivering babies. But she is medically trained. Everything will be sterilized, and she uses antibiotics and all that stuff. So it’s safe."

I suppose I should be relieved they are not using broken glass or old razor blades. "I don’t get it," I say at last. I peer at my granddaughter. "Is this some sort of religious thing?"

She bursts out laughing. "No!" she sputters at last. "Granma! You know I don’t go for that cult stuff. This is just about me taking control of my own life. Saying that sex doesn’t run me, that I won’t choose a man just because I’m horny for him, that I’m more than that."

"You’re giving up sexual fulfillment for the rest of your life." I state it flatly, wanting her to hear how permanent it is.

"Granma, orgasm isn’t sexual fulfillment. Orgasm isn’t that much better than taking a good shit."

I smile in spite of myself. "Then you’re sleeping with the wrong boys. Your grandfather-"

She covers her ears in mock horror. "Don’t gross me out with old-people sex stories. Ew!" She drops her hands. "Sexual fulfillment-that’s like code words that say women are about sex. Women need sexual fulfillment, like it’s more important than being a fulfilled person."

We are arguing semantics when what I want to tell her is not to let some fanatic cut her sweet young flesh away from her body. Don’t let anyone steal that much of you, I want to say. I don’t. I suddenly understand how grave this is. If I become too serious, she won’t hear me at all. She is poking me, trying to provoke me to act like a parent. I hold myself back from that futile abyss. I sense that Katie has already plunged to the bottom of it. Reasoning with her won’t work. Get her to talk, and maybe she will talk herself out of it.

"Have you any idea how much it’s going to hurt? Well, I’m sure she’ll use an anesthetic for the surgery, but afterward when you’re healing-"