L

 aw and medicine may be considered lucrative and rewarding fields but require a tremendous investment of time and effort — plus nonstop studying — to succeed in them.

Therefore, it’s not very common for young men in our community to follow this career path. They often already have a family when they first dip their feet into the working world, and so opt to pursue a profession whose training requirements are easier to manage.

But those who choose law and medicine are invariably bright, ambitious, and focused on the ultimate goal. They’re determined to succeed, in spite of the long road ahead and the fact that the studying is relentless, the hours grueling, and the classes demanding.

Just as tenacious are their young wives who support them in this endeavor, holding down the fort for years at a time. They’ve grown accustomed to attending family simchahs, siddur plays, and PTA meetings on their own. After a stressful day at work, and an afternoon with the kids, they do suppertime, bath time, and bedtime by themselves and try to keep the kids distracted and quiet while their husbands study in the next room. If not for them, their husbands say, it never could’ve happened.

We’ll Figure Something Out

“I’ll learn as long as possible,” is what Esti’s husband, Yitzchok, told her when they were dating. “And then after that, we’ll figure something out.”

Nine years and four kids later, Yitzchok is well into his first year of medical school. After four years of that, he’ll begin his residency, which means several more years of intensive training, depending on which field of medicine he wishes to pursue.

The mesivta that Yitzchok attended didn’t offer a secular studies program, so, Esti says, “We really had to start from scratch.” He began studying for his GED high school equivalency certificate while choosing which career path to pursue. “He spent weeks doing research,” Esti remembers, “and he spoke to many professionals and various rabbanim for their input.”

He finally chose the medical field, which Esti says he’s well suited for. “I think being a doctor was a deeply buried dream of his since he was a child. He has the personality for it, and he loves science.”

How did Esti react to his decision? “It made sense to both of us. We discussed it and made all the small decisions that make up the big decision.” She knew from the beginning that she was in for the long haul. “His favorite saying,” says Esti, “is ‘One day I’ll be 40 anyway, so I may as well be 40 and a doctor, too.’ ”

When Yocheved and Dovid first got married, they spent a few years living in Eretz Yisrael, where Dovid learned in the Mir. “At the end of two years,” Yocheved says, “he brought up the idea of medical school. It wasn’t something we discussed when dating, but I think it’s something he always wanted to do.”

Yocheved was fine with it from day one, especially when she realized this was something he really wanted. “I want him to be happy. Yes, it’s hard, but I don’t want him to be one of those guys who — when he’s in his sixties — will say ‘I should have done it.’ I don’t want to be the one to stand in the way of his dream.”

Already when they were dating, Blima knew that her husband, Shimon, wanted to pursue a profession. So a year after her marriage, she went from being a starry-eyed kallah to a mom with a one-month-old baby and a husband in law school. Thus began three intensive years of continuous studying. “I was completely on board and supportive the whole time,” she says.

It helped that to Blima, this was the norm. “I grew up in a doctor’s home, and my brother also went to medical school. I knew what hard work looked like, and I was supportive of it.”

Similarly, when Gittie and Moishe got married nine years ago, she knew he wanted to pursue a professional career. “I was looking for someone with a plan,” she says, “and I’m totally supportive of it, because I know it’s what he wants to do.”

Moishe decided to become a physician assistant (PA), a position that requires significantly less schooling than a doctor. But that doesn’t mean it was easy. The workload is very intense. “It’s like they concentrate all those years of medical school into just two years,” Gittie explains.

“Medical school,” says Malkie, who lives in Lakewood, “was not the original plan.” But she wasn’t surprised when her husband told her this is what he wants to do. “A few family members are lawyers,” she points out, “and he has a friend in dental school.”

Malkie describes her husband as being bright, capable, determined, and personable. All those qualities combined, she says, are necessary for someone who’s doing this. Still, it’s daunting. “We’re talking, on the conservative side, another seven more years,” she says, “until we see the light at the end of the tunnel.”

Taking Out the Garbage

On a practical level, all these women learned from the get-go to become accustomed to doing the things that traditionally are considered to be the man’s role, “like taking out the garbage,” says Esti, “or bringing the car to the garage to put on the winter tires, or hacking away at the ice on the van in freezing weather so I can get my kids to school.” Esti’s proud of her ability to maintain her independence.

There are plenty of women who find themselves manning the barbecue grill and taking the car for an oil change, says Esti. She doesn’t really see herself as different from women whose husbands are out late every night in kollel, or are out of town often for business. And, of course, there are lots of single moms out there who do it all, so everything is relative.

Esti says that her generation has been groomed for this lifestyle since high school. “As Bais Yaakov and seminary graduates,” says Esti, “I think we’re pretty much prepared to run the home without our husbands being present. It’s a lifestyle we’re accustomed to, unlike in the secular world, where they finish school and have job security before starting a family. We expect our husbands will be at night seder, or may learn during the day and study or work in the evenings, all this while the children keep coming.”

She remembers that she was due to give birth around the same time as Yitzchok’s finals were scheduled. That was kind of stressful. “He kept saying, ‘Make sure to wait until after my last final, or I won’t be around.’ ” In the end, their daughter was born right before that last test, and somehow it all worked out.

Yocheved agrees that having Dovid largely unavailable isn’t easy. Eight years after starting his schooling, he’s just beginning his residency. “The hardest part for me,” she says, “is him not being home. He missed our son’s upsheren because he had a test that day. He almost missed his sister’s wedding, but finally ran in just as the chuppah was starting. And on Erev Shabbos, he comes home right before candlelighting. But you get used to it. I help my son with his homework. I packed up the house by myself when we moved, and I was nine months pregnant at the time! You do what you have to do.”

No Time for Mice

Paying the bills and dealing with the plumber may be inconvenient, but in real life, more stressful things do happen. What about the times when more significant issues come up that need to be addressed?

When Yocheved went into labor with her first child, Dovid was nowhere nearby. And she wasn’t happy about it. “It was a disaster,” she says bluntly when she recalls that day seven years ago. She had to call her father-in-law to drive her to the hospital. Even though he was a member of Hatzolah, so she knew she was in capable hands, she was stressed. Eventually, Dovid met them at the hospital, and the birth went smoothly, baruch Hashem. But it’s an experience that Yocheved won’t easily forget.

When Moishe’s grandmother passed away, he was at the levayah, of course. But he also had a major test the next day, and he desperately needed to study. So while the rest of the family comforted the mourners as they began to sit shivah, Moishe discreetly excused himself and went back home to study. “He stayed up all night,” Gittie remembers, “and went straight to school in the morning. He didn’t go to sleep at all.”

Esti’s greatest challenge came not from a major life-cycle event, but from a disturbing noise in her kitchen. “Just last week,” she says, “I heard a scratching and squeaking. Well, it turned out to be a mouse!” To her credit, Esti waited to tell her husband about it, even though she was terrified. When he finally emerged from his study to rummage for some snacks, she breathed a sigh of relief and told him what happened.

But his thoughts were clearly elsewhere. “A mouse?” he said. “I don’t have time to deal with that now.” And he disappeared into his study again.

A Special Guest?

What about the children? Do they resent their father’s prolonged absences? Do they even notice? “They get used to it,” says Yocheved. “It’s part of the routine. They know Abba’s away a lot, and they are accustomed to it.”

Still, even Yocheved was surprised when she once told her children they were having a special guest for Shabbos. “I was about to tell them who it was,” Yocheved remembers, “but instead, my little ones starting jumping up and down yelling, ‘Is it Abba? Is Abba our special guest?’ Could you imagine? They love it when he’s home, but they think of him as a guest that we get to see occasionally. I was speechless.”

Malkie was determined to have her children understand that what their father was doing is really important. That’s why she made sure to bring the kids along to her husband’s swearing-in ceremony last year. “They’re still young,” she says, “but they know that he’s in school and is learning about the human body.” She hopes they won’t feel resentful of his absences as they grow older.

Emotional Roller Coaster

Gittie says her in-laws were helpful and supportive during the time he was in school, which made a huge difference. But the pace of school, study, and tests is relentless, and students have to stay on top of the program no matter what’s going on in their personal lives.

The stress and anxiety of being a student, Gittie feels, is unique. “Every night before a test, there was tremendous tension,” she says. “We were constantly nervous, even though, baruch Hashem, he did very well. Until you’re settled in a job, you worry. There are lots of unknowns.”

And the hours, says Malkie, are grueling, especially for someone with a family. “The average day is 15 hours. If you’re not putting in that amount of time, you’re going to fall behind. So if a student takes two hours out of his morning to be busy with something else, he’s setting himself behind. And if you calculate the time spent in shul, not to mention Shabbos and Yom Tov, it’s easy to see that you’ve set yourself significantly behind your fellow students. And there’s really no opportunity to make it up.”

“With a job,” Malkie explains, “there will eventually be a time when someone closes the door or the computer and says, ‘I’m done.’ In medical school, you’re never done. You’ve never really studied enough. You can always go further and further.” Ultimately, says Malkie, you have to really want this, or you’ll burn out fast.

Is she ever resentful that her husband chose this lifestyle? The only thing that bothers her, says Malkie, is when he gets discouraged. “When Yom Tov season comes, he inevitably falls behind. And since he’s an overachiever, it really bothers him. I want him to stay positive, motivated, and happy.” At times like that she tells him, “We’re all in this together, struggling to make your dreams come true.”

The Value of Support

A support system is invaluable when the going gets tough. Blima says her family was emotionally and financially supportive, and that was her major source of help. “They babysat and made me a lot of suppers,” she remembers.

She also understood that her husband’s success depended on how well he performed in school. “At the end of the day,” she says, “it’s important to get good grades; it gives you an advantage in the job market. Of course, everything is in the Hands of Hashem, but we also want to feel that we gave it our all and did the best we could.”

Technology, says Malkie, has been helpful in keeping her husband at home, at least physically at home, much of the time. “Almost all the classes can be accessed online. He uses a split-screen computer, an iPad, printers, earphones, and noise-blocking devices. He closes the door to his study, and the kids know not to go in.”

Like other women in her situation, Esti understands that constant studying is a necessary part of the plan. That recognition was reinforced from an unlikely source. “My husband went to speak to a rav about issues regarding his school,” she says. “We were surprised that the rav told him it’s very important that he does well in school, for professional purposes, but also in order to make a kiddush Hashem.”

In fact, when Yitzchok was elected as valedictorian of his undergraduate class, many well- wishers commented on what a huge kiddush Hashem that was. “We got a ton of inspiring feedback,” Esti says. “That type of thing makes me feel motivated to support him and help however I can.”

Unlike the Others

What’s it like for a yungerman, often just emerging out of the cocoon of yeshivah, to be thrust into this intense secular environment? How does he relate to his teachers and to his classmates, most of whom are younger and single?

“The school doesn’t care if you’re Jewish,” says Blima, “if there’s a Yom Tov coming up, if you’re a dad and a husband. The attitude is, ‘You know what you signed up for. If you have kids who need you, that’s your problem.’ ”

Malkie’s husband Moishe says that he is culturally miles away from his classmates. “There’s no one else in the school whose life is remotely like mine,” he says. “I’m juggling the kids, Yamim Tovim; even davening three times a day takes up a big chunk of my time.” He’s careful about who he associates with in his class, steering away from over-association with females. His current buddy in class is a newly married young Bucharian Jew, and the two couples are developing a mutual friendship.

Gittie agrees that it is tremendously helpful to have classmates who are members of one’s own community. “Most of the people in my husband’s class couldn’t even believe that he was married,” she remembers. “But there were another two frum guys in his class so this was his support group.”

Esti admits that, “As a frum wife, it was a bit hard for me to get used to my husband doing class projects with other women, just because it’s something so culturally foreign to me. Of course, he tries to stick with the other guys whenever possible, or at least with the other older, more mature students.”

This Is Your Life Right Now

If these women could offer advice to those who are just starting on the journey, what would they tell them?

“Just take it one day at a time,” says Blima. “Let him study and do what he has to do.” She also suggests starting the journey, “The sooner the better.”

“Now that my kids are bigger,” she explains, “I don’t know how we could’ve done it. The best time is when you’re still ‘young and dumb.’ That’s when you have more energy and less responsibility.”

Gittie adds that, “The honest truth is when you’re in it, it’s hard. But now that it’s over, I tend to forget just how hard it was. At the end of the day, he’s working and has a great job. Best of all, he really enjoys what he does.”

“Don’t try to be a martyr,” says Malkie. “If you’re going to do this, you have to accept help or you’ll fall apart. That means having cleaning help, keeping Shabbos meals simple, hiring babysitting, and realizing that you don’t have to make the most lavish shalach manos. It’s okay to be dependent on other people.”

Blima’s been married 14 years and reflects back on those difficult times with bittersweet memories. She still wonders how she was able to manage. “We ask ourselves, ‘How in heaven’s name did we do it?’ But we’re definitely glad we did it and even gladder that it’s over.”

Her mantra during the entire process was simply, “Keep your eyes on the prize.”

But Esti recommends taking a step back and cherishing the moment. “Don’t think of these years of schooling as something you need to get through, as a means to an end that you’re waiting for. Life is made up of one thing after another, and if we keep waiting for the next step, we’re always going to be waiting. Instead, realize that this is your life right now. Try to enjoy it and appreciate it as it’s happening. Live it!”

Yad Hashem Every Step of The Way

As with every other aspect of life, it’s important to recognize the Hashgachah and the siyata d’Shmaya in the situation that we find ourselves in. And sometimes, that Hashgachah becomes eminently clear.

“Getting into medical school,” says Malkie, “is extremely competitive. My husband applied twice. Before he started to interview, he asked a sh’eilah on whether he can shake hands with women. He was told that it’s best not to.

“Fast-forward a few weeks, and Moishe was finally invited to his first medical school interview. The interviewer was a woman, and she held out her hand as soon as he walked into the room. He explained that for religious reasons, he couldn’t shake hands. She wasn’t pleased. ‘So how do you plan to become a doctor?’ she asked him. He tried to explain the difference, but she didn’t buy it. And so, he was rejected.”

“It was his only interview that year,” Malkie remembers. “And it was depressing at the time.” But it led to a gap year for Moishe during which he returned to kollel. A year later, he applied again and was invited by two other schools for an interview. Both times, he didn’t shake hands.” But the outcome was entirely different. “Both schools accepted him!”

Looking back, Malkie says she saw the amazing Yad Hashem in this experience. So much so, that she calls it “our miracle.”

“The schools that accepted him were much higher ranking than the original school,” she explains. “And we would’ve had to move if he would have been accepted. So he’s much better off where he is now.”

Most important of all, “Spiritually, it was the best thing that could have happened. He may have been set back a year, but going back to kollel fortified him and prepared him for the years ahead, when he would be surrounded by people from all types of backgrounds.

“It was a phenomenal year. There’s nothing like going back to yeshivah.”

Looking back, she says, “It’s clear: G-d runs the world.”

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 644)