My near-death experience occurred on 11/2/2018 after the birth of my second child. It was the result of undiagnosed placenta acreta and an inverted uterus. I lost 7.5 liters of blood and had 8.5 liters transfused. 

Twenty minutes after delivering my daughter, my placenta became very difficult to deliver (more difficult than delivering my baby). 

Finally, my doctor was able to (essentially) detach my placenta from my uterus which caused immediate, excruciating pain and rapid blood loss. Albeit indescribable, I equate the pain to feeling as though someone were stabbing me with a knife from the inside of my body. As the pain grew more and more intense, I was simultaneously losing blood at a rapid pace, a feeling that simply can’t be described unless you’ve experienced it yourself. While the doctor and nurses worked to determine where the bleeding was coming from, my pain and fear only intensified. I looked to my mom and told her I was scared. She said to me, “Don’t worry baby, Jesus is with you.” From the depths of my despair, I managed to muster the strength to cry out, “God please help me!” And, boy, did He! 

As I started losing consciousness from the blood loss, it was as though time completely stopped. Although I was not unconscious for long (maybe 30 seconds), it felt like an eternity in which I was still fully aware but was also on my way somewhere. I often describe it as feeling like I closed my eyes but was slipping backwards, except I wasn’t afraid at this point. Everything was quiet and I felt immediate peace, a peacefulness that surpassed all understanding and is so incredibly difficult to explain in human terms.

Whereas before, I was freezing cold, I suddenly felt so warm and loved. All of my pain and suffering stopped completely. I knew I was dying but I was completely, 100% okay with it. My thoughts went back to the day that I accepted Jesus as my Lord and Savior when I was a little girl. That’s all I could think of. I said to myself, and to God, “There are only two outcomes from this. I am either going to die and be with Jesus, or I am going to get through this and God’s going to use this.” There was no thought of what I was leaving behind, not even my newborn baby who was not more than 30 minutes old.

However, before losing consciousness, I did tell myself to look at my husband one last time. I couldn’t form words but I wanted him to know how much I loved him and how much I knew he’d be okay, and how capable he was of taking care of our girls. 

I remember being woken up from my current state by the team, asking me to stay with them, and I was not happy! All the peace and warmth I felt fled, and I returned to feeling extreme cold and pain. 

Once in the operating room, my body was so frigid from having little to no blood. I remember the team having to forcibly move my limbs into position for surgery. 

I vividly remember a man standing behind me, looking down at me. He said to me, “Look at me, Amanda. It is going to be OK. Just keep looking at me.” He had a mask on but I could see that he had the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen in my entire life; it was easy to look at Him. I was so incredibly attracted to him and in love with him; I wanted to be with him more than anyone on earth, and I remember thinking, “But I am married and I love my husband. I really love this man, though, too.” Later, I asked the people on my team who he was so I could thank him and tell him how much peace he gave me, and no one had a clue who it might’ve been based on my description of him. During my recovery, I thought maybe he was on the anesthesia team, so I searched their practice intently and couldn’t find him. 

But I know now, that man with me was Jesus. 

I don’t remember anything from my surgery but I do recall waking up from it in the OR, knowing that I had a hysterectomy. (I don’t know if I overheard them talking about it or if it was just some kind of feeling I had.) I do know that the doctor hadn’t spoken to me yet and when I asked the nurses if that’s what happened, they said the doctor would explain everything. 

In the ICU, I experienced more and more of God’s faithfulness and goodness. I knew His angels were surrounding me and not because that’s something we’re supposed to think when we’re in trouble, but because I felt their presence and I saw them with my own eyes. It’s hard to explain how they appeared but they were like shadows in the room with me and they brought me immense peace. I would wake up, see them, know they were my angels, and go back to sleep. 

Even more indescribable was the power I felt from being covered in prayer. Just like I knew the angels were surrounding me, I knew people all over the world were praying for me. And their prayers mattered. 

When I learned of how afraid and sad my family and friends were when they thought they were losing me, I was a little upset with them! I didn’t want them to feel sad. Seeing them sad made me incredibly sad for them (not me). I wanted them to know that they didn’t need to feel that way. 

This experience completely changed my life. I have felt and known what it means to have peace that surpasses all understanding. I have felt and experienced God’s love for me in a way that I will never be able to describe in human terms. God made me feel like I was the only person He loves. His love is completely overwhelming and all-consuming. When I think of God’s love for me or what He’s done for me, I break down in tears to the point that people may think I’m in anguish when I’m not; it is as though my earthly body isn’t built to contain all of my praise and adoration for Him. 

After my NDE, I also had a profound sense of purpose. I felt (and still feel strongly) that nothing else matters except God’s love, sharing His love with others, and furthering the gospel. I felt convicted in my own life over how I spent so much time focusing on and stressing over things that don’t matter in the end. God, and our relationship with Him, is what matters. 

I’d like to say that from that moment forward, I did a 180 overnight with how I was living and, while that may be partly true in some respects, I still have areas in my life that I’ve since been working to improve. I guess it’s like the Apostle Paul said, “I keep pressing forward toward the goal.” There are a lot of things I don’t tolerate well any more, like immense pressure or stress. 

For the first few years, I also grappled a lot with what I experienced. I felt selfish for wanting to be in Heaven with Jesus but also so grateful to be alive and to still get to experience all the beauty and blessings that God has given me on earth. To quote Paul, “For me to live is Christ, to die is gain,” aptly sums up my feelings.

In terms of death, I’ve never been afraid of dying because of my walk with Christ, and I think the only new emotion I have is that I want to make the most of my time here on earth because I know tomorrow is not promised and things can change in an instant. I do have some fears about experiencing that kind of pain again, but I also know that God will bring me through anything. 

Talking about my NDE with others can be hard. I can only really talk to my mom about it, and my kids. It’s hard to explain, but people have gotten frustrated or annoyed with me for talking about it “too much.” It’s like they expect me to move on, but how can you move on from something that completely changed you, and not ever talk about it again? There are certain people that I can’t talk to about it at all, like my mother-in-law who, though she’s a devout Catholic, doesn’t believe me. She doesn’t even believe I almost died, even though she was at the hospital when it happened. 

I am thankful God allowed me to experience just a glimpse of what heaven will be like!