My Kidney Donation Story: Angelica Vega

When I was a little girl, I thought my dad could never be hurt. To me, he was invincible—my superhero. As the years passed, I began to see that he was human after all. He was getting older, and life was taking its toll on him. That realization was hard, because the image I carried of him was always one of strength that could never fade.

Then, in January of 2024, everything came crashing down. My dad became so sick that he was rushed to the emergency room. The doctors told us he had end-stage kidney failure, and without immediate dialysis, he wouldn’t live more than a few days.

Hearing those words was like watching the ground fall out from under me. He spent a week in the hospital, and although he was stabilized, his life changed forever. From then on, three times a week, he sat tethered to a dialysis machine. I watched his freedom, his strength, his spark slowly being drained away, and my heart broke a little more each time.

I knew I couldn’t just stand by. When I learned that it could take six to 10 years for a deceased donor kidney to become available, I couldn’t accept it. Six to 10 years was too long to wait when I could see the life fading from him every day. So I made the choice to get tested myself. For six long months, I went through every scan, every blood test, every hurdle—and finally, in February of 2025, I found out I was a match.

Telling my dad was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. His answer was immediate: no. Not because he didn’t want to live, but because his heart was heavy with guilt. He couldn’t bear the thought of taking something so vital from me, his daughter, a single mom. He worried for me, for my children, for a future that might one day bring me illness of my own. That’s who my dad is—always worrying for others, never taking for himself.

But slowly, over months of back-and-forth, he let his heart soften. In July, he finally said yes. I will never forget that day. It felt like sunlight breaking through after the darkest storm. For the first time in a long time, I saw hope in his eyes.

On August 22, 2025, we went into surgery together. I went first, and then him. When I woke up, I didn’t care about my own discomfort. My first thought was of him. Was he okay? Did it work? Then my sister came to my bedside, and I’ll never forget her words: “The doctor said that as soon as they connected your kidney, it started working right away.” At that moment, a deep knot rose in my throat, and tears just came. They weren’t from sadness, but from overwhelming relief. God had answered my prayers.

The body is such a mystery, such a miracle. God gave me two kidneys, and now one of mine lives inside my dad, giving him life again. And somehow, I don’t feel less whole—I feel more complete than ever.

Since then, it hasn’t been perfect. He still has ups and downs, hospital visits, and challenges. But his kidney—the kidney we share—is strong. He is alive. He is healing. And when I look at him now, I don’t just see the superhero I once imagined. I see my father. Human. Fragile. Precious. And I love him with every part of me.

People asked me if I was scared. The truth is, I never was. I never doubted. I knew God was in control, and I trusted Him with everything. That peace carried me through surgery, through recovery, through every single moment. And if I were asked to do it all again, I would say yes in a heartbeat.

Besides being a mother, this has been the greatest gift of my life—to give life back to the man who gave me mine. My children have watched me walk this road with him. They’ve seen the tears, the prayers, the sacrifice, and the joy. My hope is that someday, they’ll carry these lessons with them—to love deeply, to give selflessly, to understand that compassion is one of the most powerful forces in this world.

Life is fragile. Life is sacred. Life is beautiful. And I am grateful beyond words for every breath, every smile, every moment God has given us.

About the Author

Angelica Vega’s proudest role is being a mom to her 10-year-old son and six-year-old daughter. They are her reason why. Everything she does is for them, with the hope that they’ll see her love, effort, and dreams, and carry those forward to build their own. She works as an operating room nurse, a job that challenges and humbles her every day. It’s not just about the medicine; it’s about being there for people at their most vulnerable and offering both skill and compassion. Outside of work, she finds freedom in running, joy in cheering at her son’s soccer games and her daughter’s gymnastics, and peace in simple family moments. Whether laughing, reminiscing, or dreaming about the future, those are the times she cherishes most. At heart, she is a dreamer. And if her children learn anything from her, she hopes it’s this: no matter how busy or imperfect life may be, love and kindness are what matter most.