Eyes glittering, I enter the pool and mouth the blessing in silent resentment, denying the mikvah lady the mitzvah of an "Amen" over my naked body. "Kosher," she confirms my hair fell fully beneath the surface of the tranquil water. I remember the generations of Jewish women who immersed in frigid rivers and icy lakes. At least this mikvah is warm. Still, a hissing boil of anger urges to break. Afterwards, I dress - stockings, dress, re-tuck every lock of damp hair under a cap till it is covered tightly- with short-lived relief.
Links for background: