Hi everyone,

I am attempting to relactate to bring my milk supply back in for Isabela who is now 8 months old. Her story is below (it is long).

I am on the accelerated protocol and have about 3 weeks to go. Bella is my fifth child and I b/f my other 4.

I am anxious to hear of anyone else's story or any advice or opinions,

God Bless,

Kelly Moscarello

Hi everyone,
I have been lurking off an on in between Isabella's feedings
and taking care of my other children, one of whom just moved out to be on her own and go to college (she is 19).
I never thought I would have a child with special needs (who does?), or who would not breastfeed or eat "normally". Yikes, what a roller coaster ride and she is only 8 months old. Her story is posted below if you want to read it. It is long but I promise it is worth reading. Her story was on the front page of our local paper in February and she was on the television too. Her birth was a planned home birth that went disastrously wrong, as can also happen in the hospital. The birth and her subsequent miraculous recovery from death made news because the local fire department was involved and it was their quick 45 second response that saved her life and mine.
Anyhow, Bella was not supposed to live and was actually dead when she was born in the ambulance. No breathing, no heartbeat. Totally blue. Her body temp was going down and my body was in shock as well. Her head had gotten out, then she could get no further. Completely stuck, face up, turning blue as the minutes passed because her big shoulders could not be budged. Horrible, horrible day, but yet amazing that she is here today, smiling, laughing, eating (yes eating! 100 percent oral, but I will get to that in just a second).
The firemen could not get the rest of her body out either. Nothing worked. But somehow, some way 20 minutes after her head was born, the rest of her came flying out. Don't know how because the midwife and firemen could not budge her. I have never seen men sweat as much as those firemen did that morning. I was watching them from my stretcher in the ambulance desperately working on my daughter to dislodge her and get oxygen into her little body.
Her weight was 10 pounds 3 ounces. I had my family doctor who also delivered babies following the pregnancy as well as a midwife who had delivered one of my other children. Her last ultrasound showed that she was 9 pounds, maybe 10 with diminished amniotic fluid. That was January 2nd. The ultrasound report was faxed to my doctor from the radiology office, but it was never reviewed and just sat next to the fax machine. No phone call to warn me of potential danger. <img src="http://www.asklenore.com/ubbthreads/images/icons/frown.gif" alt="" /> One other reason she could not get out of the birth canal was there was no amniotic fluid left. It was all gone. She had been inside a completely dry uterus. How did she live?
After we got to the hospital, she was whisked away. I did not even know if it was a boy or girl. All I knew was I wanted to die. Such pain should never be felt by a mother. I was taken to the OB unit to get stitched up because I had sustained a 2nd degree tear from the birth. I was making funeral arrangements in my head. I looked at my husband and said, "he (the baby) is dead isn't he?" My husband looked at me with such disbelief and shock in his face and said he did not know, but that it was a girl. A girl!!! I had wanted another girl so much. I had assumed I was having a boy because the baby was so big and because the fireman who caught her as she flew out in the ambulance had said "he's not breathing". All I could think about was who did she look like? Where would I bury her? Could I hold her? I wanted my mom and I was crying out for her, but she could not help. She had died in 1998.
About an hour later, the NICU doctor came in and told us that Isabella was alive. Alive!! Oh my God, how? Would she be okay? Tons of questions, very few answers. He warned us about seizures, brain damage, death. From that point on, I did not want to believe it, and promised my little girl that I would help her get better.
I first saw Isabella when she was 4 hours old. Finally gathering enough strength to get up and walk to go see her, my first glimpse of my child was in an isolette with so many tubes, wires, monitors, and beeping. I did not cry. I was too numb with shock. I gently touched her beautiful, but yet horribly swollen head covered with thick black hair, and begged her to please come back to me. "Please come back to mommy Isabella, please." I told her I was so sorry, so very sorry. I did not mean for her to die. All I had wanted was a gentle home birth in water so her daddy and I could welcome her and so I could breastfeed her immediately after birth. I did not know what danger was waiting because of the ultrasound predictions. Her birthdate is January 16th, 2003, a full two weeks after the stat ultrasound that showed she was in danger.
Bella was given 3 days to live - probably less. Severe seizures began on day 2. She started seizing every 2 minutes. Her jaw would quiver, her arms shake, her legs would go in bycycling movements. Her eyes would blink rapidly. I thought I would die from the sheer horror of it all. Discontinuation of life support was being discussed amongst the doctors. She was on a ventilator although she was basically breathing on her own with no supplementation of oxygen. Vent was pulled on day 7, and she started to come back to me. 20 days after her birth she came home. No monitors, no medications (her seizure meds were weaned and then discontinued).
We visited the firemen who had saved 2 lives. It was news, good news and we wanted to share.
She came home on a NG tube and would not breastfeed, bottlefeed, no pacifiers -nothing. I tried everything. She nursed about 10 times successfully, getting some milk, but my supply had started to dry up and I was frustrated. Plus she would fight me every single time I tried to feed her. Every time. I would look at her and think that she was acting like Linda Blair (sp?) on the exorcist because of the way she would violently turn her head to avoid feeding. I am not kidding when I say how much she would twist to avoid any oral sensation at all. She did like to suck on lollipops though, but absolutely nothing else.
She still does fight me now for the first couple of bites. First oral "taste" of food was on Easter Sunday. She ate 2.5 ounces of baby fruit, but it took forever.
The first week of May I finally got Isabella into therapy - speech, occupational, and physical. Within one week of the speech therapists help, she was eating off of a spoon good enough where I was able to discontinue the NG tube. The g-tube was given to me many times as an option, but I continued to say no, at least for the time being, to see if she could do it herself.
Fast forward to now. She drinks out of a cup (thickened) and eats wonderfully off of a spoon. Is starting to slowly gain weight and is developmentally delayed, but is moving at her own pace and is progressing every week.
She eats about 6 - 7 times per day, mostly spoon as of recently, and gets about 4 - 5 ounces at a time. I use butter, olive oil, heavy cream and baby cereal as calorie boosters. She also gets some breastmilk, and fruits and cereals.
I am amazed at this little gir's progress and delighted that she is here with us. Yes, having a special needs child is hands down the most difficult thing I have ever done, but every smile, every coo ( she is finally talking!!! and laughing some too!!!) warms my heart with such an awesome sense of joy that cannot be described, but understood by the parents on this board.
Sorry, this is so long. I have no support in my life except for my counselor. That's about it. I found out very quickly that people I thought were my friends weren't. Everyone disappeared. Yes, I understand that some people might not understand or know how to help, but that is okay. I did not understand until now either. So I am here for support, encouragement, hope, and to talk. My midwife blames me for the birth because I did not push hard enough. She even told the paramedics/firemen when they got to my home that it was all my fault because I did not push. I have never experienced such horrifying pain as I was in the final minutes of her birth -both physical and mental.
Isabella has helped me to see a part of myself I did not know existed. Yes I love all my children dearly. My little Bella is proof positive that the medical community does not have all the answers and there is hope for all of us. Yes Isabella is developmentally delayed, but life is not a race. She will almost certainly have some physical problems with sitting, crawling, etc No one can tell us for certain what will work, and what won't. What sometimes is not considered into the medical situation is the power and drive of the human spirit. Mine and hers. I just keep trying and trying. And hopefully one day at a time, her feeding challenges will progress -, one feeding at a time. She already has and I kiss her beautiful little face and hold her every day close to my heart and whisper to her the same thing now that I told her while I was in labor and would get scared. I would place my hand where I knew her little head was, and talk to her.- "You be strong, and I will be strong". She has held up her end of the bargain and so will I.
Now if I can just get her to breastfeed???? <img src="http://www.asklenore.com/ubbthreads/images/icons/smirk.gif" alt="" /> We are using the Lact Aid right now with about 50 percent success.

Take care, God bless

Story below
It can be found on
www.cantonrep.com
go to archives
February 23rd
There are pictures on the paper's website of bella, mom and dad, and the most wonderful firemen.


Rescue crew, doctors save mother, newborn

Repository / Joy Newcomb

SPECIAL DELIVERY. Kelly Moscarello looks on as Greentown Fire Chief Vince Harris Sr. cradles her daughter, Isabella Angela Moscarello, during a visit to the fire station recently. Exactly three weeks after her birth, Isabella Angela went to visit the men who had saved her life.

By KELLY HILL Repository staff writer

LAKE TWP. -- Paramedic Marc Jackson cradled a limp, purplish baby in his arms as he rushed into Aultman Hospital. Greentown Fire Chief Vince Harris Sr. kept pace with Jackson, working to give the newborn desperately needed oxygen through a mask.

While the still, silent child was rushed to the neonatal intensive care unit, Greentown paramedic Steve Brant and emergency medical technician Vince Harris Jr. helped doctors take mother Kelly Moscarello to the obstetrics ward on the third floor.

In the rush, her husband, Mark, had to choose between following his wife or his newborn child. He went with Kelly, who kept asking about the baby. Was it alive? Was it all right?

No one could tell her.

Mark Moscarello didn?t want to say anything to his wife until the result was sure. But he had glimpsed the blue-mottled child. He didn?t know if there was any way the baby could be alive.

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Kelly Moscarello, 37, had planned for the birth of her fifth child for months. She wanted no harsh hospital lights or sterile linoleum floors. Just a birthing tub of warm water to soothe her laboring muscles, her husband and a midwife at her side.

She wanted to hold her new baby in the dim, quiet basement of their Lake Township home and welcome it into the world. Her 2-year-old son, Dominic, had been born at home with no problems.

She worked with her doctors to prepare, got her family doctor?s blessing and thoroughly researched on her own. Her due date was Jan. 12, but she expected the child to come early, as Dominic had. Christmas came and went. She began to worry a little. She had several false labors.

The pregnancy was an unexpected but welcome surprise. The Moscarellos decided that they wanted the child?s sex to be a surprise as well. But Kelly wondered. Her 7-year-old daughter, Katie, had been a twin. Over the course of the pregnancy, however, the second fetus did not come to term.

Katie sometimes asked about her missing sister. Kelly would tell her daughter, and liked to think, that this pregnancy was that twin coming back.

n

At 4 a.m. Jan. 16, Kelly Moscarello got up to go to the bathroom. The first contraction hit, hard. She waited five minutes, then woke Mark. The baby was on its way. About a half-hour later, she climbed into the birthing tub. Her midwife arrived soon after, ready to assist the birth.

Kelly knew the pains of normal childbirth. These contractions were agonizingly worse.

The 10-pound child had raised its arms as Kelly?s muscles began to push it out of her body. Its head protruded from between her legs and its relatively broad shoulders were tightly wedged. Kelly?s muscles were exhausted. The midwife told her to get out of the tub, to move around and then lie down on the floor. Mark held his wife?s leg as the midwife desperately tried to move the baby.Nothing worked. A family friend went to call for help.It?s unlikely for a child?s shoulders to get seriously stuck in the birth canal, a condition called shoulder dystocia. It occurs in an estimated 0.2 percent to 2.1 percent of vaginal births. Larger babies have a higher risk, about 10 percent. It can result in oxygen deprivation for the baby or death for mother and child.



At the Greentown Volunteer Fire Station, the emergency call came in at 7:09 a.m., just as the three-man crew headed by firefighter paramedic Marc Jackson was starting its day.

Emergency medical technician Troy Hendershot was shaving in the bathroom. Firefighter-paramedic Steve Brant was just waking up.

Over the station?s radio system, Jackson listened to a woman ask the dispatcher to send help for a difficult birth. He heard the urgency in her voice.

?We?ve got a lady having a baby!? he called out to Brant and Hendershot, then jumped into the department?s sport utility vehicle. Brant and Hendershot followed, seconds behind, in an ambulance. They arrived at the house just two minutes after the alarm tones sounded.

Jackson had delivered a dozen babies in his years as a paramedic for the Greentown and Canton fire departments. The last difficult birth was a set of premature twins who had to be resuscitated, their tiny lungs barely formed at 7 months gestation.

Still, nothing prepared him for the site of Kelly Moscarello sprawled on her basement floor, a tiny, blue-mottled head between her legs. Jackson tried to shift the child, checked to see if its umbilical cord was wrapped around its neck. It wasn?t.

Jackson clicked on his radio to call for more manpower, not knowing that Harris and his son, Harris Jr., had just pulled up at the Moscarello?s home. They were on volunteer duty that day and had come to help.

The radio blared through the speakers of the ambulance outside, with its doors open. For a few seconds, Kelly?s agonized screams filled the air outside her house.

For Harris Jr., those screams set the tone for the roller-coaster ride ahead. They were the cries of a mother who thought she and her baby were dying.

????

Within minutes, Jackson and Brant knew they needed to get the exhausted mother to the hospital. The baby wasn?t moving in spite of their best efforts to lubricate the birth canal, shift the child and give it oxygen.

Twelve minutes after paramedics arrived, Kelly Moscarello was on her way to Aultman Hospital. Mark Moscarello climbed into the front seat of the ambulance next to Harris Sr., and the squad pulled out, sirens wailing.

Mark wasn?t sure he wanted to know what was going on in the back of the ambulance. The 36-year-old father just knew that whatever happened, he had to be calm. Ready for the worst, ready to help hold the other members of his family together.

He glanced back just once. He could see beads of sweat rolling off the paramedics? faces as they struggled to deliver his baby and save his wife.

As Harris Sr. wove in and out of cars, all Mark Moscarello could think was, ?Don?t people get out of the way for lights and sirens??

????

Steve Brant was praying for something to happen.

At Lauby Road, just past Mayfair Road, Kelly Moscarello went limp.

?Mom ? Mom!? Brant called out anxiously.

Awful possibilities flashed through the paramedics? minds: She had gone into shock or cardiac arrest.

But as Kelly?s muscles relaxed, the shift was just enough to send her 10.2-pound baby squirting into Jackson?s waiting arms. Like a football, like a rocket, the men would say later. As if all the pent-up force of Kelly?s labor was concentrated into a split second.

?Baby delivered,? Jackson shouted up to the front of the ambulance.

Harris Sr. glanced at his watch and called out the time of birth: 7:26 a.m.

In the back of the ambulance, the paramedics had two crises: trying to rescusitate the child, whose skin was unnatural shades of blue and burgundy, and making sure Kelly was all right.

The four men tried to rouse Kelly and the baby. They called her name. They flicked the baby?s feet, trying to rescusitate it. Anything for a response.

Still groggy and in pain, Kelly looked up at the paramedics. She remembers noticing how hard the men were sweating. She was alive. But her baby, Isabella Angela, had no pulse.

????

As the ambulance arrived at Aultman, one side of the umbilical cord was clamped and ready to cut.

Troy Hendershot searched for the second clamp, lost in the frenzied scramble for equipment. They had to improvise with a plastic band. Hendershot cut the cord and Jackson took off with the child, Harris Sr. helping with the oxygen.

Down in the neonatal intensive care unit, Jackson and Harris Sr. deposited the baby girl in a warmer and let the emergency room doctors take over. Almost immediately, doctors found a pulse: slow, at 60 beats per minute; a healthy baby?s heart would be pumping at about 140. Within two minutes, the child?s heart rate was at 142. The child?s skin went from blue to pink almost immediately.

Jackson went into a bathroom to compose himself. As the crew filled out the necessary paperwork, Hendershot went to the ambulance and sat inside, close to tears. He thought about his own two precious children, one just 20 months old.

????

After four hours in the hospital, a doctor brought the news to the Moscarellos: Their daughter was alive. But the doctors didn?t know if she would survive.

?We really didn?t expect to hear that she was alive,? Kelly Moscarello said.

Suddenly a new world of worry opened. Wheelchairs, learning disabilities, physical problems, months of hospitalization.

Kelly lay awake at night in her hospital bed thinking about her daughter?s future.

Around midnight on the 18th, Kelly Moscarello asked for a piece of paper. She wrote:

The last 48 hours have been some of the most traumatic and stressful of my life. Our baby is alive and recovering from her death slowly but surely. I can?t believe she is here and I thank God for the miracle of her little life. She is doing better with breathing on her own and is showing she has a temper and can get mad. They started feeding her a short time ago which is earlier than expected. Yeh! She is eating. Her breath on her own is almost there.

Kelly left the hospital that day, anxious to get home to her other children and wondering if little Isabella was going to live to come home.

She started keeping notes in a small datebook.

Jan. 19: Milk in.

Jan. 20: v. bad day emotionally

Jan. 22: very upset about Isabella?s future

Jan. 23: very alert short time

As the days progressed, she was able to write more. And the signs were positive. Isabella was moving, beginning to digest milk through a tube, was taken off seizure medication and eventually could breathe without a ventilator.

Kelly would stand by her baby?s incubator and talk to her for hours. She caressed the soft skin amid the tubes and wires, wishing that she could heal her child by touch. The 10-pound baby was an anomaly in a neonatal intenstive care unit filled with infants so small a finger?s length spans their backs. Kelly could see the muted envy in other parents? eyes when they looked at her plump, pink daughter.

The Moscarello?s 11th wedding anniversary was Valentine?s Day. Kelly had made Mark promise to take her out, when the couple expected the baby in December.

?If you want to come home and ruin our plans, that?s perfectly fine,? Kelly told her daughter.

????

On Feb. 4, Isabella Angela Moscarello came home.

The Greentown firefighters had called nearly every day to check on the child. The news was a roller coaster of emotions, with mostly bad news at first.

Steve Brant stopped asking. Troy Hendershot, who didn?t work at the station for a few days, thought the child had died. When the Moscarellos called to ask if they could bring the little girl to the station, the good news came as a shock.

Exactly three weeks after her birth, Isabella Angela went to visit the men who had saved her life.

They didn?t know what to expect. Certainly not the rosy-cheeked little girl in a pink outfit with a ribbon in her dark hair, fussing like a normal baby. The only evidence of anything unusual was the narrow plastic tube taped to the child?s cheek, which snaked through her nose to her stomach for feeding. That day was the first time she cried, just for a few seconds.

The men cooed and cuddled the infant. They called her ?Greentown?s miracle baby.?

Brant knows that in emergency work, some calls stick with you. Isabella?s birth was one. For the men in the ambulance, he said, ?whenever they go out on a call for a pregnant woman or a birth, this is the call they?re going to remember.?

The doctors discovered two tiny hemorrhages in the back of the brain, which controls fine motor control. Whether Isabella will have long-term damage or if the rest of her brain will compensate, no one knows.

But the Moscarellos are hopeful. And grateful that their daughter ? and Kelly ? are both alive.

They already know their little girl is a fighter. Initially, doctors warned the couple that it could be weeks or months before their baby would be released. She was home in less than three weeks. She has begun breast-feeding a little, though she sometimes fusses until Kelly feeds her through the tube. Kelly teases her lips with a sweet lollipop, coaxing her daughter to learn to suck and swallow. Mom has to swaddle her little girl in a tight blanket and a clothespin while she is feeding, so the energetic child doesn?t pull out her tube.

They?re grateful for the Greentown paramedics and firefighters, their doctors, the support from Mark?s employer, Kent State University, friends and family ? and each day with their little girl.

?We?re just grateful that no one gave up on her,? Kelly Moscarello said.

?There?s a reason for Miss Isabella to be here, and we don?t know what that is,? her husband said. ?We weren?t trying to have another child. We never thought that we?d have another child. But this is just a little voice that needs to be heard.?