In 2000, I was pregnant with my second child. My father, who was my rock, passed when I was 16 after a three-year cancer battle. My now husband and I had our first child our senior year of high school and married a few years later. I had just landed my first position that required my college degree that I had worked and sacrificed so much for. My husband had also just started his first job out of college. We were still in a financially tough spot, in our mid-twenties and struggling in our relationship and with past traumatic experiences. To say things were tough was an understatement.

Around six months into my pregnancy, my vision began to blur. I would have moments of dizziness and headaches. It was brushed off as typical pregnancy effects as my labs were fine along with my blood pressure. As I moved through my pregnancy, my symptoms worsened and at 35 weeks I was diagnosed with toxemia and induced that day. Our healthy, perfect son was born within four hours of the diagnosis.

My condition worsened, even with treatment, my blood pressure skyrocketed, and I kept passing out. I was confined to the bed, could not hold my son, and was in physical and emotional pain. We have a large family, so we had many visitors. At the time, I was feeling miserable but could not communicate it with anyone. The nurse took charge and only allowed one visitor; my mom stayed with me as my husband took our daughter for a bite to eat.

As I thought I was falling asleep, a lightness came over me along with a feeling of peace as I began to float to a light. Everything else was dark, but I was not scared. As I was moving toward the light, the peace, love, and warmth was growing stronger. I no longer hurt, either physically or emotionally. I felt joy and happiness, there was no struggle, only love, and I wanted more.

At this point, I 'heard' my dad. I say 'heard' in quotes because it was not only the hearing, but a sense of touch and smell all rolled together. He said, "Princess, it's not your time." I was dumbfounded and replied, "This feels so wonderful, I want to be with you; this is where I want to be. To feel this, I want this." He told me it was not my time again, I protested again, and he told me I had two beautiful children that needed me, that I needed to fight for my children, that he was always there and would be waiting when it was my time.

I remember grudgingly making the decision to fight for my children. The warmth, peace, and calm went away as I returned to my body, my blood pressure returned to normal, my pain disappeared, and I felt a purpose.

I did not share the experience with anyone for several years. One day we were talking about it and my mom was telling me how at one point I went from being extremely restless to extremely calm, she became super nervous, and then I woke up as if I had not been sick. I started crying and admitted that I had talked with my dad, and he told me it was not my time.

As I reflect back, I realize that since that day, I do not fear death for myself, only what my death would mean to my children. When it is my time, I will welcome that feeling of loving, warmth, and peace that is beyond any imagination.