When I was learning to become a balanit , one of the main messages that was woven through each session is that the women who come to the mikvah are people, each with their own story. As balaniot we rarely are privy to those stories: struggle with niddah/mikvah, a fight with her husband, a sick parent, infertility, stress at work—or anything else we carry with us throughout our day.

As a Mikvah attendant, I have witnessed many moments of deep emotion and transformation. But one evening stands out with particular tenderness — when I had the honor of guiding a woman, a friend, through her Mikvah immersion following a hysterectomy due to breast cancer.

For many years, one of my most personal companions was the mikvah. It arrived in my life when I was young and newly married — a little nervous, a little unsure, clutching a towel and a sense that I was stepping into something ancient and intimate.

For many women, immersing in the mikveh is one of the most private and spiritual moments of the month, a time for reflection, renewal, and connection.  Yet, even in such a sacred space, it’s not only allowed but essential to advocate for your comfort and sense of dignity.

But as the time drew near, I pushed these fair arguments out of my head and just took it one step at a time. I cleaned myself in a halachic permitting manner, checked myself, walked out of the house (I left my children with my guests) and trekked to the Mikvah...

When the 1st night of Pesach coincides with Motzei Shabbat, it creates a unique confluence of halakhic and emotional considerations.