My parents were very gentle: “It’s great that you love it, but maybe you can find something else you love that has a practical application?”

W hen I was in ninth grade I opened a time capsule from fourth grade. Flipping through my old journal I saw a fill-in-the-blank that said “When I grow up I want to be a neuroscientist.”

I doubt I even knew what the word meant then but I’d always been interested in language. Back when people read newspapers my father used to clip William Safire’s “On Language” column for me and he bought me books on codes. In high school that interest in language led to curiosity about how the brain processes language and from there to how the brain works in general.

It certainly wasn’t the typical Bais Yaakov career path. At one seminary interview I was smart enough not to answer “neuroscience ” when asked about my plans so I said something vague about linguistics. “Oh that’s great ” the rav answered. “We’re affiliated with a really strong speech therapy program and you can take classes while you’re here.”

Once I announced my decision reactions were... mixed. A lot of well-meaning family and friends were convinced I’d never find a shidduch. Their fears weren’t wholly unfounded based on my friends’ experiences.

What helped me was the explosion of frum women in the workforce. A generation ago you didn’t have that but by that point the idea of a working mother was already well-entrenched. I also felt grounded by the support of my mentors both from high school and seminary who never told me this wasn’t a career for a Bais Yaakov girl (despite my attending a seminary decidedly not known for its support of advanced secular education).

I spent two and a half years in college then eight years in an MD-PhD program. (I needed a medical degree to conduct human research studies which generally require a supervising medical doctor). I studied everything from fruit-fly development to Alzheimer’s. My father used to remind me that in seven years I’d be seven years older no matter what — do I want to look back regretfully wishing I’d gone for my dream or with satisfaction?

I got married during my second semester of med school and had all five of my children — including twins — during my schooling. Those years were a blur. Although my colleagues were pretty understanding I tried to be super-productive at home so no one would think I wasn’t committed. I spent maternity leaves writing abstracts and papers.

I couldn’t have managed without my husband’s support. When we got married he was finishing up semichah and a master’s in medieval Jewish history. Shortly afterward he started law school at night while learning in a yadin-yadin kollel. His schedule wasn’t exactly easy but he did the weekend child care for years so I could study or go into the hospital. Our parents also helped out entertaining the kids on Sundays so I could study.

Research was exciting but after a few years of the PhD program I began to get a little burned out by microscopes and mice and felt disconnected from reality. I realized that I actually loved working with patients particularly kids so I switched to pediatric neurology. That entailed a five-year residency followed by a yearlong fellowship in neuro-oncology — about 16 years of training in all.

Those were hard years, for sure; there was a lot going on. But have you ever met a mother who didn’t need more time? It doesn’t seem to matter whether you’re a SEIT working two mornings a week or a full-time radiologist. Those of us who work longer hours try to buy more time to spend with our kids.

I don’t have the time or inclination to cook massive Shabbos meals; takeout is my friend, and I never bake. I have friends who cook on Sunday for the week, but that’s when I’m home with my kids; I don’t want to spend the day in the kitchen! My kids eat more fish sticks and pizza than they should, I have my dry-cleaning picked up, and I order my life on Amazon. This way, I’m interacting with my kids instead of schlepping them through the aisles of Shoprite.

Even if my kids don’t fully understand exactly what I do, they’re proud of it, especially when people come on Shabbos with medical questions or when I give a presentation to their class.

Right now, I’m a pediatric neurologist at Cornell, with subinterests in neuro-oncology and neurogenetics. (That includes, for example, caring for kids with genetic diseases with neurologic implications, like families where multiple members have epilepsy or autism.) I see patients, and I get my neuro-oncology fix through my involvement with cutting-edge research at Memorial Sloan-Kettering. I’m also the program director for our child neurology education program, where I supervise and train residents who will be pediatric neurologists.

In medicine, we call it the three-legged stool: Academic medicine rests on clinical medicine, teaching, and research. It took a while to get here, but now I’m lucky enough to have the balance I want. I love what I do every day.

An unrealized dream...

My career took a number of twists and turns. At one point, I took a physics course and fell in love with the idea that the world is run by mathematical theorems. I was convinced I wanted to be a theoretical astrophysicist. It lasted just a few weeks. My parents were very gentle: “It’s great that you love it, but maybe you can find something else you love that has a practical application?”

A time I dream of visiting...

For women, this is probably the best era yet, so I wouldn’t choose to live at any other time. But if I could just visit, I’d love to witness the Annus Mirabilis — 1905 — when Einstein published three major papers and it seemed like the entire world of science was opening up. Or maybe meet Marie Curie. Or watch the discovery of the DNA double helix.

My dream vacation...

I once took a month off between my fellowship and new job. I had all these grand plans, cleaning the basement, organizing the toys... I didn’t actually do any of them. I slept late, took family trips, read. Staycation stuff. It was one of the best months I ever had, but I couldn’t take more than one month.

(Originally featured in Family First Issue 574)