Network Trust

“I was not born to be a shadchan,” Libby tells Mishpacha from her home in Lakewood. “For a while I sold real estate — I was a good saleswoman — and then I worked as a project manager at construction sites. But then there was a lull in projects, and I stopped working.”

Libby might not have been born to be a shadchan, but she is a born advocate. Extremely organized and efficient, she is willing to jump in wherever she sees a need. When that last position ended, she began volunteering for a Lakewood chesed organization, shuttling patients to their medical appointments.

“I noticed that a very fine bochur I was driving seemed to have a confidential medical issue,” Libby relates. “I guessed the issue when I chanced upon a sign outside the facility where I had dropped him. One day I asked him, ‘Are you in shidduchim?’ When he answered, ‘You know I have a medical condition,’ I told him, ‘That doesn’t mean you can’t try.’ That evening I told my husband, ‘We have to help this boy.’

“So I tried to figure out a medical issue that would be fair for him. I struggled to marry him off for years.”

The process of trying to find him a shidduch left Libby with a pile of notebooks and a huge network of people who were searching for exactly these sorts of out-of-the-box shidduchim.

It also led her to come in contact with Rabbi Chaim Landau, director of medical and genetic research at Bonei Olam. Eventually, she began working with Bonei Olam on shidduchim where genetic issues were involved.

In the meantime, Shifra, a community activist in Brooklyn, had become involved with medical shidduchim. As her contact list grew, she saw a strong need for a universal, confidential database to handle these sensitive shidduchim. Shifra hired a software developer to build a system that would enable users to create a profile and to select what would be suitable for them, including age range, religious affiliation and other relevant questions, plus medical conditions they would be open to in a spouse. With the database created, Kesher Networks was launched.

There are all sorts of medical conditions listed, from diabetes, celiac, and emotional disorders, to the more complex cancer, genetic, and fertility disorders that Bonei Olam specializes in — a main reason the two organizations are working in tandem.

For Libby, joining Kesher Networks was a natural next step. She recruited Avigail from Montreal to handle the administrative and technical end. Eva, a renowned shadchan and dating coach in Brooklyn, came on board for coaching.

Kesher Networks has since become the first stop for families challenged by medical issues in shidduchim. The simpler cases involve commonly known, manageable conditions such as diabetes or Crohn’s disease, while other clients have more complicated conditions or have disabilities or diseases that are genetic, either inherited or the result of a new mutation.

Regardless of the severity or seemingly hopelessness of a particular situation, every client is approached with sensitivity and assured utmost confidentiality. And being under the Bonei Olam canopy means that the shadchanim have access to the vast network of medical professionals the organization has amassed over the years.

“Each shidduch is complicated, time-consuming, and sometimes tedious,” admits Rabbi Shlomo Bochner, who together with his wife, Chani, founded Bonei Olam 26 years ago after years of childlessness, and whose umbrella covers a massive number of services that could be broken down into many other organizations. Kesher Networks is one of them.

“This is a website where every boy or girl with a genetic issue can post anonymously,” he related to Mishpacha. “For example, ‘I’m a bochur, I live in Lakewood, I’m twenty-five, I have Noonan syndrome” [a genetic mutation that presents with short height, unusual facial features and other physical problems].’ This site is being viewed by thousands of people, but these boys and girls never trusted regular shadchanim, because as discreet as they want to be, and some really are, the news gets around and they’ll never have a chance to go on a date. So now, after these anonymous posts, there are several shadchanim working behind the scenes, and we get requests for matchings from people who’ve basically given up on ever having a shot at a shidduch. Let’s say a girl sees this post, she has her own medical issues, and she thinks, maybe this will work for me. So she calls up, and once there is a request, we get the medical file of both of them, and the shadchan starts putting it together.”

Bonei Olam’s cutting-edge move into the field of genetics has meant that there have been some major breakthroughs for particular mutations. The organization’s AAS (Advance Andrology Solutions) to address various types of male infertility has made out-of-reach dreams become reality, for struggling couples as well as single young men hoping for a chance at marriage. And they’ve also been at the forefront of helping women and girls born without a womb (MRKH syndrome) through successful uterine transplants.

While Kesher Networks is one of Bonei Olam’s newer initiatives, shidduchim isn’t a new field for Rabbi Bochner.

“You know how it is, once you know a little bit, people expect you to know a lot, and we started getting calls about shidduchim, about researching genes and mutations,” he said. “Every time you identify a gene that causes an issue, if you can test and see that a young man or woman doesn’t have that gene, then a shidduch can move forward with confidence. So I threw myself into that, too, creating a staff of researchers focusing on genetics-related issues in the wider frum community. We used our know-how to create new relationships with labs and medical centers, and to date, several dozen new genetic mutations have been identified through our efforts.”

Infertility, it turned out, was the intersection between several modalities. “Cancer became our expertise as well, because we suddenly had parents of a child or a teenage cancer patient who needed guidance about the patient’s ability to have children in the future, and people would tell them, ‘Oh, call Bonei Olam, they know everything.’ ”

Rabbi Bochner says he’s learned to trust his common sense and life experience when it comes to shidduchim; even when the desired checklists don’t match up perfectly, he believes things can work out. “With age and experience, I’ve learned to not be black and white. I’ve become ‘marbleized.’ ”

He mentions how he once ran into an old acquaintance from his yeshivah days, who confided that his daughter had survived a bout with cancer, but it had left her infertile. Rabbi Bochner told him to have her call, and listened to her cry on the phone.

“We need to find you someone who doesn’t need more children,” he said.

In the end, he relates, “She married an alman who had five children, and although he was much older than her, they have a beautiful marriage.”

Genetic Links

Rabbi Bochner says that Ashkenazic Jews are one of the most genetically challenged groups in the world, with a high rate of founder mutations leading to increased risk of recessive disease.

“After the Crusades, Ashkenazic Jewry was reduced to a very small number that intermarried among themselves,” he says. “But that eventually blossomed into millions of people. The Sephardim were more spread out and married less between populations.”

While working with infertile couples, Rabbi Bochner realized that many pregnancy losses are the result of genetic issues, and his team began investing in that area of genetic research to prevent the recurrence of these problems.

What the entire genetic component means for Kesher Network’s shadchanim is that it’s not only about helping challenged couples get married. Every shidduch must also be evaluated in terms of which genetic conditions can or cannot be combined, so that debilitating diseases will not be passed on to the next generation.

Rabbi Chaim Landau is the man responsible for signing off on the genetic health of a shidduch. Almost 20 years ago, Rabbi Landau, a maggid shiur in Bobov and Siach Yitzchok, began to volunteer at Bonei Olam. While he initially helped with the database and other IT issues, Rabbi Bochner soon asked him to help with genetic research.

“I really had no time,” Rabbi Landau says, “but in the summer, when my schedule was lighter, I started looking into it, and I became fascinated.”

Not only did he become “fascinated,” he became profoundly immersed in the subject. Today he writes articles about genetics for scientific journals.

“There are certain diseases, such as a certain type of hemophilia, that are X-chromosome linked,” Rabbi Landau explains. “So for example, if a woman inherits a hemophilia mutation, she has a second X chromosome to counter its effects (females have two X chromosomes, while males have one X and one Y chromosome). She’s healthy, she looks fine. But if she has a son, he has a 50 percent chance of inheriting her mutated X chromosome and will be affected.”

Rabbi Landau once received a distressed call from a young woman whose prospective chassan had insisted on a genetic screening, which showed her to be a carrier of a certain syndrome that affects cognitive abilities, facial features, and fertility. He wanted to end the shidduch, but after clarifying with the leading researcher in this particular field, Rabbi Landau was able to reassure them that although she was a carrier of a mutation, the chances of her giving birth to an affected child would be almost zero.

An elderly couple once came into Rabbi Landau’s office in tears.

“Our son was born with a deformity years ago in a prestigious New York hospital,” they related, “but at the time they told us the issue wasn’t genetic. We finally found him a shidduch, but he and his wife just had a baby who is even more deformed than our son. Did we do something wrong?”

Rabbi Landau explained that within the past 25 years, genetic knowledge has leapfrogged to unimaginable heights. He examined the original hospital reports the couple had brought with them.

“Looking at his report,” he told them, “I’m pretty sure that today we can recognize which gene is the cause. We can test, and if correct, they will be able to use assisted reproductive technology to have healthy children in the future.”

About three weeks later, the mutation was identified, and the couple indeed did go on to have healthy children.

Rabbi Landau sometimes finds himself presented with scientific conundrums, such as the case of a very intelligent young man who had a disorder that had left his face severely disfigured, even after multiple surgeries. The genetic testing that had been done when he was born was, by today’s standards, limited and inadequate in yielding accurate results. Rabbi Landau had additional testing ordered, but to no avail. Yet shortly afterward, while discussing an unrelated research project with a renowned researcher, he decided to ask his opinion about this young man.

“Send me what information you have,” the doctor said.

A few days later, Rabbi Landau found an email from him with a diagnosis.

“It took digging,” Rabbi Landau says. “But he was confident the young man has a very rare syndrome, of which only two cases have ever been published, both in 2017. We had him tested for this gene and identified his mutation. Finding the genetic basis for his problem is huge in ensuring healthy children when he marries.”

Strength in Struggle

While many people are shidduch-challenged due to physical issues, others face challenges stemming from mental health issues.

Initially, Bonei Olam passed mental health inquiries on to a shadchan who specialized specifically in them, but things changed after Libby was recruited. Along with nine other women, Libby worked on the Hatzolah of Central Jersey crisis team to respond to calls from women in psychiatric crisis. Often women having a psychiatric episode would be made even more uncomfortable if there were only males present. At the behest of local rabbanim, Dr. Shmuel Mandelman, a noted clinical psychologist who is an expert in psychiatric emergencies, trained Libby and her group in how to approach, evaluate, and de-escalate these situations, via a protocol and contact with Dr. Mandelman: Was the call a matter of a bout of simple anxiety that would pass without intervention, a failure to take medication, or a real crisis requiring hospitalization? The experience made Libby aware of how many families are affected by mental health issues.

“Anyone with a mental health challenge who registers with us has to sign a release for one of our shadchanim who are trained in mental health to speak to the registrant’s therapist and/or doctor,” Libby says. “We often consult with Dr. Mandelman to review the cases and the potential matches.”

Do they have enough long-term stability and support to succeed in the marriage? Are they compliant in taking their medications? Dr. Mandelman once dealt with a case in which a girl disclosed a mental health issue on a date, as she was directed by her rabbinic authority. Taken aback, the boy called his rosh yeshivah crying, who sent him to Dr. Mandelman. He explained the situation, letting the boy know that the girl had a condition that was managed and under control.

“This boy got clarity and the confidence to continue,” Dr. Mandelman tells Mishpacha, “and today they have a beautiful marriage. You know, I sit in the beis din every week for end-of-marriage evaluations, and in many cases, if an underlying mental health issue had been properly disclosed and addressed, the couple would have been able to handle it.”

While Dr. Mandelman avers that “marriage is not a hospital,” he says that marriage may have benefits for certain mental health issues. Marriage can often have a positive effect on the person, given a caring partner and a sense of belonging. Furthermore, he says, the experience of having been through therapy and treatment often renders patients more reflective and better-developed than someone who has never had cause to work through feelings, thoughts, and behaviors. There is often more self-awareness and sensitivity.

Dr. Mandelman often hears from patients, “I’d never want to marry someone with no history. They wouldn’t be able to appreciate my struggles.”

Realistic Expectations

At Libby’s invitation, I join the Kesher Networks team one Monday morning on Zoom to meet the group of confidential and medically trained shadchanim and to hear what they do.

“Our communications are not limited to these twice-weekly meetings,” Libby says. “We’re in touch by text, WhatsApp, phone calls, and email all week long.”

The shadchanim come from a variety of backgrounds so that clients can be matched with a shadchan familiar with their communities, culture, and language, and the organization’s international database widens the shidduch pool considerably. Calls come in from the United States and Canada, Eretz Yisrael, South Africa, Brazil, Europe, and Australia.

Registering is very simple and there are no fees involved. One can register online, by paper application with fax, by email, or by phone. With confidentiality a primary condition, once a client is registered, the shadchanim do not release any names or medical records until both sides are in agreement to do so.

The team discusses up to 20 cases per meeting and usually makes over 500 shidduch calls a week. Once the references have been called and the medical information verified, the shadchan who did the intake presents the case. If possible, the intake shadchan meets the client in person, but since the roster of clients spans the globe, Zoom serves as a valuable option.

“We do person to person, not medical to medical,” Avigail says. “Then we try to retrofit the medical condition to see if it can work. The level of pathology in a match has to be fair, and some genetic conditions should not be paired.”

A great meeting is one that finishes with lots of suggestions and the work begins.

When names are matched and the medical piece cleared, parents are given the names and told to do their own research, including medical research. If a couple needs shidduch coaching, Eva is called in.

Parents may sometimes need coaching in how to handle outside reactions to their child’s situation. Shifra gives the example of a young woman who looks completely typical, yet has Turner’s syndrome, a condition in which fertility is compromised. Since she comes from a prestigious family, no one can understand why she isn’t married yet. Even her grandparents accuse the parents of being “too picky.”

“In such cases, we will often role-play with parents for how to graciously back out of shidduch suggestions without divulging the medical issue,” Shifra says.

While many parents are realistic, and extremely grateful to have someone to talk to who understands and sympathizes with their situation, others come with a list of requirements. Some are unaware of the ramifications of their child’s condition or are in denial.

“We have to gently let them know when their expectations are not realistic,” says Libby.

At times, the research required to make matches reveals information that is essential for the future. “We are constantly sending sh’eilos to dayanim and poskim,” she says.

Libby relates the case of a girl who was a cancer survivor, proposed for a boy with a genetic issue. The boy’s family wanted to be sure she could have children after her treatments.

“The doctor’s letters said she was fine, but Rabbi Landau wanted her to do more testing,” Libby says. “It turned out that her fertility was compromised, but she was able to protect it. Baruch Hashem this shidduch went through, and we were also successful in helping protect her future.”

But there are a lot of sad stories, too, and sometimes it’s tempting to give up.

“It can be a thankless business,” Libby admits. “It requires willpower, passion, and stamina. People are in pain, and they don’t always say thank you. But the sense of accomplishment is enough. Our work gives people hope, and when a shidduch works out, it’s incredibly rewarding.”

But the story of Rabbi Shlomo and Chani Bochner is a lesson to her, to the other shadchanim, and to the families and individuals hoping to build their own Jewish homes.

Because the Bochners, too, did everything possible at the time to have a child and wanted something very badly that they didn’t get, yet went on to build and empire of hope out of their own pain.

“I’m embarrassed to mention all the deals I made with HaKadosh Baruch Hu,” Rabbi Bochner said, “but the answer kept being no. Later I came to realize that it was because Hashem had another plan for us. It was as if Hashem took our case, discussed it back and forth, and then said, ‘No. Because what you’re going to do now is better for you. I’m going to give you another mission out of this pain.’ I wasn’t a rosh yeshivah or a big scholar — I was a plain businessman selling coats. But Hashem has been with us all the way, making sure we’re matzliach for Klal Yisrael.”

*Some names have been changed to protect privacy

(Originally featured in Mishpacha, Issue 1045)