A Girl’s story of Ovum Donation in Malaysia

I have accidently stumbled upon an interesting yet hope generating website http://spareyoureggs.com. The author is a brave Malaysia woman who had donated her eggs for a fee at an unnamed medical center in the country. I'd read her website with uninterrupted interest as she had written about the process and procedures so well and never the slightest slur hinted in her report.

Reading her website had cheered my another-day-of-2ww-blue. Though she had done the donation with a nominal fee in return, but having had been through the egg-growing process myself twice, i must applaud her courage and her unwavering decision to go through the painstaking process that lasted in no less than four weeks. Though its for a fee, which might be spent off within a week, but her contribute could last a life time if the eggs made it to the birth stage. The magnitude of the egg donors are justified wider and farther than dollar and cents. Donated eggs could bring life and happiness... in an otherwise grim family.

But there was one woman named Sarah commented on her website with such narrow-minded perception that brought me to think, such people still exist in this twenty-first century??? Read on.


sarah Says:
March 4th, 2009 at 5:42pm

Hi dear,
You are very brave. But i must ask, when u do plan to have children of your own, have u thought about the consequences that u have other children out there, who you might never even get to know of, with your genes and dna running through them? what if your own children happens to fall in love with your donated-egg child, and they never find out that they are related? and then an incest is in the making, which is a crime, but no one will ever know cos you dont know?
isnt that horrible?

if ur never planning to have kids, i think that would be much better, but you also never know if ur cousins or siblings or you yourself fall in love and meet with your donated-egg child. crimes could be born UNKNOWN.

Bizarre, isn't she? If more people think like Sarah, i couldn't imagine what could possibly be their views towards other aspects of their life. I think self-preservation would their core agenda to life - everything that concern their interest must come first. On a lighter note, imagine being her daughter-in-law....guahahaha

I seldom pray lately, but i would wish to make this exception for the kind author and her courage to maintain her website. I pray to all gods that the divines would see her sincere objective and bless her for her courage to do the nonorthodox in the name of charity to those unfortunate childless and infertile community.

How to be rich?

Colin Powell once said :

1. The less you associate with some people, the more your life will improve.

2. Any time you tolerate mediocrity in others, it increases your mediocrity.

3. An important attribute in successful people is their impatience with negative thinking and negative acting people.

4. As you grow, your associates will change. Some of your friends will not want you to go on. They will want you to stay where they are. Friends that don't help you climb will want you to crawl. Your friends will stretch your vision, or choke your dream.

5.Never receive counsel from unproductive people.

6. Never discuss your problems with someone incapable of contributing to the solution, because those who never succeed themselves are always first to tell you how.

7. Not everyone has a right to speak into your life. You are certain to get the worst of the bargain when you exchange ideas with the wrong person.

8. Don't follow anyonewho's not going anywhere...

9. With some people you spend an evening...with others you invest it.

10. Be carefulwhere you stop to inquire for directions along the road of life.

11. If you run with wolves, you will learn how to howl...But, if you associate with eagles, you will learn how to soar to great heights.

12. Never make someone a priority when you are only an option for them.

Ghandhism

Dr. Arun Gandhi, grandson of Mahatma Gandhi and founder of the M.K.Gandhi Institute for Nonviolence, in his June 9
lecture at the University of Puerto Rico, shared the following story:
~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~
I was 16 years old and living with my parents at the institute my grandfather had founded 18 miles outside of Durban , South Africa , in the middle of the sugarplantations. We were deep in the country and had  no neighbors, so my two sisters and I would always look forward to going to town to visit friends or go to the movies.

One day, my father asked me to drive him to town for an all-day conference, and I jumped at the chance. Since I was going to town, my mother gave me a list of  groceries she needed and, since I had all day in town,  my father asked me to take care of several pending  chores, such as getting the car serviced.

When I dropped my father off that morning, he said, "I will meet you here at 5:00 p.m., and we will go home together."

After hurriedly completing my chores, I went straight to the nearest movie theatre. I got so engrossed in a John Wayne double-feature that I forgot the time. It was 5:30 before I remembered. By the time I ran to the garage and got the car and hurried to where my father was waiting for me, it was almost 6:00.

He anxiously asked me, "Why were you late?" I was so ashamed of telling him I was watching a John Wayne western
movie that I said, "The car wasn't ready, so I had to wait," not realizing that he had already called the garage.

When he caught me in the lie, he said: "There's something wrong in the way I brought you up that didn't give you the
confidence to tell me the truth. In order to figure out where I went wrong with you, I'm going to walk home 18
miles and think about it." So, dressed in his suit and dress shoes, he began to walk home in the dark on mostly
unpaved, unlit roads. I couldn't leave him, so for five-and-a-half hours I drove behind him,
watching my father go through this agony for a stupid lie that I uttered. I decided then and there that I was never
going to lie again.

I often think about that episode and wonder, if he had punished me the way we punish our children, whether I would have learned a lesson at all. I don't think so. I would have suffered the punishment and gone on doing the same thing. But this single non-violent action was so powerful that it is still as if it happened yesterday.

That is the power of non-violence.

Teddy Stoddard

She stood in front of her 5th grade class on the very first day of school, she told the children an untruth. Like most teachers, she looked at her students and said that she loved them all the same. However, that was impossible, because there in the front row, slumped in his seat, was a little boy named Teddy Stoddard .

Mrs.Thompson had watched Teddy the year before and noticed that he did not play well with the other children, that his clothes were messy and that he constantly needed a bath. In addition, Teddy could be unpleasant. It got to the point where Mrs.Thompson would actually take delight in marking his papers with a broad red pen, making bold X's and then putting a big 'F' at the top of his papers.

At the school where Mrs.Thompson taught, she was required to review each child's past records and she put Teddy's off until last. However, when she reviewed his file, she was in for a surprise.

Teddy's first grade teacher wrote, 'Teddy is a bright child with a ready laugh. He does his work neatly and has good manners...He is a joy to be around..'

His second grade teacher wrote, 'Teddy is an excellent student, well liked by his classmates, but he is troubled because his mother has a terminal illness and life at home must be a struggle.'

His third grade teacher wrote, 'His mother's death has been hard on him. He tries to do his best, but his father doesn't show much interest, and his home life will soon affect him if some steps aren't taken.'

Teddy's fourth grade teacher wrote, 'Teddy is withdrawn and doesn't show much interest in school. He doesn't have many friends and he sometimes sleeps in class.'

By now, Mrs. Thompson realized the problem and she was ashamed of herself. She felt even worse when her students brought her Christmas presents, wrapped in beautiful ribbons and bright paper, except for Teddy's. His present was clumsily wrapped in the heavy, brown paper that he got from a grocery bag. Mrs. Thompson took pains=2 0to open it in the middle of the other presents. Some of the children started to laugh when she found a rhinestone bracelet with some of the stones missing, and a bottle that was one-quarter full of perfume. But she stifled the children's laughter when she exclaimed how pretty the bracelet was, putting it on, and dabbing some of the perfume on her wrist. Teddy Stoddard stayed after school that day just long enough to say, 'Mrs. Thompson, today you smelled just like my Mom used to.'

After the children left, she cried for at least an hour. On that very day, she quit teaching reading, writing and arithmetic. Instead, she began to teach children. Mrs. Thompson paid particular attention to Teddy. As she worked with him, his mind seemed to come alive. The more she encouraged him, the faster he responded. By the end of the year, Teddy had become one of the smartest children in the class and, despite her lie that she would love all the children the same, Teddy became one of her 'teacher's pets'.

A year later, she found a note under her door, from Teddy, telling her that she was the best teacher he ever had in his whole life.

Six years went by before she got another note from Teddy. He then wrote that he had finished high school, third in his class, and she was still the best teacher he ever had in life.

Four years after that, she got another letter, saying that while things had been tough at times, he'd stayed in school, had stuck with it, and would soon graduate from college with the highest of honors. He assured Mrs. Thompson that she was still the best and favorite teacher he had ever had in his whole life.

Then four more years passed and yet another letter came. This time he explained that after he got his bachelor's degree, he decided to go a little further. The letter explained that she was still the best and favorite teacher he ever had. But now his name was a little longer.... The letter was signed, Theodore F. Stoddard, MD.

The story does not end there. You see, there was yet another letter that spring. Teddy said he had met this girl and was going to be married. He explained that his father had died a couple of years ago and he was wondering if Mrs. Thompson might agree to sit at the wedding in the place that was usually reserved for the mother of the groom. Of course, Mrs. Thompson did. And guess what? She wore that bracelet, the one with several rhinestones missing. Moreover, she made sure she was wearing the perfume that Teddy remembered his mother wearing on their last Christmas together.
They hugged each other, and Dr. Stoddard whispered in Mrs. Thompson's ear, 'Thank you Mrs. Thompson for believing in me. Thank you so much for making me feel important and showing me that I could make a difference.'

Mrs. Thompson, with tears in her eyes, whispered back. She said, 'Teddy, you have it all wrong. You were the one who taught me that I could make a difference. I didn't know how to teach until I met you.'

(For you that don't know, Teddy Stoddard is the Doctor at Iowa Methodist in Des Moines that has the Stoddard Cancer Wing.)

Warm someone's heart today. . . pass this along. I love this story so very much, I cry every time I read it. Just try to make a difference in someone's life today? tomorrow? just 'do it'.

Random acts of kindness, I think they call it!

A story of true love

A great story circulated on the internet and i think its well written.

Story begins...
I was born in a secluded village on a mountain. Day by day, my parents plowed the yellow dry soil with their backs towards the sky.

I have a brother who is 3 years younger than me. I wanted to buy a handkerchief, which all girls around me seemed to have. So, one day I stole 50 cents from my father's drawer. Father had discovered about the stolen money right away.

He made me and my younger brother kneel against the wall as he held a bamboo stick in his hand. "Who stole the money?" he asked. I was stunned, too afraid to talk. Neither of us admitted to the fault, so he said, "Fine, if nobody wants to admit, you two should be beaten!"

He lifted up the bamboo stick. Suddenly, my younger brother gripped father's hand and said," Dad, I was the one who did it!" The long stick smacked my brother's back repeatedly. Father was so angry that he kept on whipping my brother until he lost his breath. After that, he sat down on our stone bed and scolded my brother, "You have learned to steal from your own house now.
What other embarrassing things will you be possibly doing in the future? You should be beaten to death, you shameless thief!"

That night, my mother and I hugged my brother. His body was full of wounds from the beating but he never shed a single tear. In the middle of the night, all of sudden, I cried out loudly. My brother covered my mouth with his little hand and said, " Sis, now don't cry anymore. Everything has happened."

I still hate myself for not having enough courage to admit what I did.
Years gone by, but the incident still seemed like it just happened yesterday. I will never forget my brother's __expression when he protected me.

That year, my brother was 8 years old and I was 11 years old. When my brother was in his last year of secondary school, he was accepted in an upper secondary school in the central. At the same time, I was accepted into a university in the province. That night, father squatted in the yard, smoking, packet by packet.

I could hear him ask my mother, "Both of our children, they have good results? very good results?" Mother wiped off her tears and sighed," What is the use? How can we possibly finance both of them?" At that time, my brother walked out, he stood in front of father and said,"Dad, I don't want to continue my study anymore, I have read enough books."

Father swung his hand and slapped my brother on his face. "Why do you have a spirit so damn weak? Even if it means I have to beg for money on the streets, I will send you two to school until you have both finished your study!"

And then, he started to knock on every house in the village to borrow money. I stuck out my hand as gently as I can to my brother's swollen face, and told him, "A boy has to continue his study; If not, he will not be able to overcome this poverty we are experiencing."

I, on the other hand, had decided not to further my study at the university. Nobody knew that on the next day, before dawn, my brother left the house with a few pieces of worn-out clothes and a few dry beans. He sneaked to my side of the bed and left a note on my pillow; "Sis, getting into a university is not easy. I will go find a job and I will send money to you."

I held the note while sitting on my bed, and cried until I lost my voice.

That year, my brother was 17 years old; I was 20 years old. With the money father borrowed from the whole village, and the money my brother earned from carrying cement on his back at a construction site,finally, I managed to get to the third year of my study in the university.

One day, while I was studying in my room, my roommate came in and told me,"There's a villager waiting for you outside!" Why would there be a villager looking for me? I walked out, and I saw my brother from afar. His whole body was covered with dirt, dust, cement and sand. I asked him, "Why did you not tell my roommate that you are my brother?"

He replied with a smile," Look at my appearance. What will they think if they would know that I am your brother? Won't they laugh at you?" I felt so touched, and tears filled my eyes. I swept away dirt and dust from my brother's body. And told him with a lump in my throat, " I don't care what people would say! You are my brother no matter what your appearance is?"

From his pocket, he took out a butterfly hair clip. He put it on my hair and said, "I saw all the girls in town are wearing it. So, I think you should also have one." I could not hold back myself anymore. I pulled my brother into my arms and cried.

That year, my brother was 20 years old; I was 23 years old. I noticed that the broken window was repaired the first time I brought my boyfriend home.

The house was scrubbed cleaned. After my boyfriend left, I danced like a little girl in front of my mother, "Mom, you didn't have to spend so much time cleaning the house!" But she told me with a smile,"

It was your brother who went home early to clean the house. Didn't you see the wound on his hand? He hurt his hand while he was replacing the window."

I went into my brother's bedroom. Looking at his thin face, I felt like there are hundreds of needle pricked in my heart.

I applied some ointment on his wound and put a bandage on it, "Does it hurt? " I asked him. "No, it doesn't hurt. You know, when at the construction site, stones keep falling on my feet . Even that could not stop me from working." In the middle of the sentence, he stopped. I turned my back on him and tears rolled down my face.

That year, my brother was 23 years old; I was 26 years old. After I got married, I lived in the city. Many times my husband invited my parents to come and live with us, but they didn't want. They said, once they left the village,they wouldn't know what to do. My brother agreed with them. He said, "Sis, you just take care of your parents-in-law. I will take care of mom and dad here."

My husband became the director of his factory. We asked my brother to accept the offer of being the manager in the maintenance department. But my brother rejected the offer. He insisted on working as a repairman instead for a start.

One day, my brother was on the top of a ladder repairing a cable, when he got electrocuted, and was sent to the hospital. My husband and I visited him at the hospital. Looking at the white gypsum on his leg, I grumbled,

"Why did you reject the offer of being a manager? Managers won't do something dangerous like that. Now look at you, You ar suffering a serious injury. Why didn't you just listen to us?"

With a serious expression on his face, he defended his decision, "Think of brother-in-law. He just became the director, and I being uneducated, and would become a manager, what kind of rumors would fly around?" My husband's eyes filled up with tears, and then I said, "But you lack in education only because of me!" "Why do you talk about the past?" he said and then he held my hand.

That year, he was 26 years old and I was 29 years old. My brother was 30 years old when he married a farmer girl from the village. During the wedding reception, the master of ceremonies asked him, "Who is the one person you respect and love the most?"

Without even taking a time to think, he answered," My sister." He continued by telling a story I could not even remember.

"When I was in primary school, the school was in a different village.

Everyday, my sister and I would walk for 2 hours to school and back home.

One day, I lost the other pair of my gloves. My sister gave me one of hers.

She wore only one glove and she had to walk far. When we got home, her hands were trembling because of the cold weather that she could not even hold her chopsticks.

From that day on, I swore that as long as I live, I would take care of my sister and will always be good to her." Applause filled up the room. All guests turned their attention to me. I found it hard to speak, "In my whole life, the one I would like to thank most is my brother," And in this happy occasion,in front of the crowd, tears were rolling down my face again.

*Love and care for the one you love every single days of your life.* You may think what you did is just a small deed, but to that someone, it may mean a lot.

Have a nice day everyone! May this story inspire you in any way!