Andrea

Summary: Sharpay and Zeke's child came to early. "Andrea. You're gone but you're still changing people's lives, saving them."


"I'm afraid that we're going to have to transfer your child to Children's. I promise she will be under the best care," the nurse was saying.

I wasn't listening. The baby, little baby Andrea was early. I knew she wasn't developed yet, but the nurse kept talking. Not trying to comfort us, just talking. Cold, hard, statistics and numbers. Couldn't she see we need comfort, not numbers?

I looked down at Sharpay. She looked more pale than usual. I put my hand on her should and she grabbed onto it, holding it tight. The nurse walked away.

"Zeke?"

"Yeah Shar?"

"I don't want my baby to die. I didn't plan that," she whispered. I hugged her.

"We'll get through this. I promise you we will." I hoped I was right.

"How?"

"I will do everything I can to help," I said. "Children's is our best chance right now, so that's where we're taking her."

Andrea? Are you listening to my thoughts? Please don't die honey. Please.


"We're running tests to see what organs are underdeveloped and if we can help them in any way. We're getting her stabilized so you can't come in yet, but you will. We'll come and get you," the nurse said. I saw tears in her eyes. This nurse knew we needed comfort. "If you need anything, just ask the receptionist and she'll page me. Ask for Nurse Peterson," she said, walking away.

"Shar! Zeke!" a voice yelled. We looked up to find Ryan and Martha walking into the waiting room. Sharpay jumped up and collapsed into her brother's arm. Martha hugged me.

"I can't..." Sharpay was crying. "I can't do this..." Ryan held her. Martha looked up at me.

"Do they know what's wrong with Andrea?" Martha asked.

"She was early. Some organs are underdeveloped. They're doing test to see which ones," I said monotonously. If I showed any emotion, I might crack and Sharpay needed me to be strong right now.

"It's been a long day for both of you. I'll go downstairs and get some hot tea for you two," Martha offered. I smiled and I saw a worried look on her face. You can't fool Martha Cox. She knew we were hurting.


"Mr. and Mrs. Evans?"" a kind voice said, jolting us awake. It was Nurse Peterson.

"What's wrong?" Sharpay asked. She got up from my lap, suddenly completely awake. That's how it was now, after 5 days here.

"Nothing. I just wanted to know if you wanted to hold your baby," the nurse asked. Sharpay smiled brightly. The first time in quite a few days.

"Yes please!" The nurse went over to unhook Andrea. Sharpay stood there, smiling broadly, waiting for a good five minutes. I looked down at my feet, feeling tears come. Sharpay noticed my change in mood. "What's wrong?"

"We have to go through all this trouble just to hold our baby," I whispered. Sharpay hugged me.

"It'll be over soon," she said. "It has to." I felt like she was trying to convince herself, not me.

"Here you go," Nurse Peterson said. Sharpay held Andrea, mindful of the cords. "Mr. Evans? I brought a camera for you to take some pictures with," she offered. I smiled, and this time it was genuine. This lady was an angel.

"Thank you." I got up and she handed me the camera. "Smile," I told Sharpay. She smiled, looking at Andrea. I snapped the picture. Andrea started smiling as well. I snapped another.

"Here, you get in the picture Mr. Evans," the nurse said. I stood behind Sharpay, staring into my baby girl's face. It was amazing that such a simple moment, just looking at my daughter, turned out to be one of the best moments of my life.


"Zeke, how much sleep have you gotten?" Martha scolded.

"I don't know," I said truthfully. She frowned. The elevator dinged and we got off.

"I thought Andrea was on a different floor," Martha said.

"They moved her," I told her. Martha went ahead to open the door. I heard a voice coming from it. We peeked in to see Sharpay singing to Andrea.

"If that horse and cart fall down you'll still be the sweetest baby in town," she finished. She smiled at Andrea. "Oh, you're a pretty baby aren't you? Just like you're mommy," she cooed.

"Amazing. Even now, Sharpay can still work in a compliment for herself," Martha laughed. I shook my head. Yes, Sharpay Evans was amazing.


"Mr. and Mrs. Evans?" a voice asked. I looked up to see the doctor.

"Is everything all right?" I asked.

"Andrea's brain stem didn't come in all the way. Her lungs won't grow and some of her brain...if we let her live, she'll have a very heard time breathing. She's blind, deaf, mute, and won't be able to walk very well either. We can help her, but those are the consequences," the doctor said.

Time stopped. What the hell were we supposed to do? Keep her? Or pull the plug? That's not a life. You're not living when you can't hear, can't see, can't talk, can't even move. She'd just lay there, day after day. I looked down at Sharpay, and even though neither of us wanted to say it, we both knew the only answer. Sharpay wrapped her arms around my neck and sobbed.

"P...p...pull..." I couldn't get it out. The doctor nodded, knowing what we were going to say.


"I...I...if you need anything, anything at all, just come back. I'll try to help, I will," Nurse Peterson said.

"Why?" Sharpay asked.

"I've been working here for 12 years. You'd think I'd be used to kids dying by now, but I'm not," she said, her eyes watering. "Every time it happens, it feels like the first time. I don't know exactly how you feel, but I can sympathize. If you need help, I want to help Mrs. Evans," the nurse said. Sharpay smiled.

"Call me Sharpay."

"Call me Lola."

"Thank you. For everything," I said. We walked out of the hospital.

Andrea. My baby Andrea. She's dead and she's only 16 days old.


"Hello. I'm Kristen. I work with a foundation to help with the loss of a child. It's called Heartlight. There's a radio station, 101.9 and they do a 36 hour radio-a-thon. All the proceeds go towards Children's Memorial Hospital. If you could please come in and speak about your daughter, we would really appreciate it. If you're interested, call me back at 1708-456-7890. Thanks." The message stopped.

"Do you want to?" I asked Sharpay. She looked at her feet.

"Yes."


"If you touched by that, please call, donate some money. Even if it's only five dollars, it helps. We want 50 people in the next half an hour to call, for Andrea. Please," Eric said.

"Sharpay? Are you alright?" I asked.

"I'm fine. I just...the more people who know, the better. Maybe next time this happens to a child...that kid can be saved," she said, breaking down. I held her.

Andrea. You're gone but you're still changing people's lives, saving them.


7 years ago, my sister died. Her arteries weren't growing and her heart was failing. The people at Children's Memorial Hospital helped us so much.
101.9, Eric and Kathy, are doing a radioathon as we speak. Please, go now, get the number and pledge. Maybe next time something like this happens, that baby can be saved. Just by donating 5 dollars. go to 101.9, please. Help save a life.

Review if you liked it and tell me if you called in or not. You can also go online and pledge. Tell someone. Then tell me what you did. Please, the radioathon ends in 5 hours. Please.