When the Universe meets Condom-less Sex

Otto Cline West Ross (the baby in question)

Ever since breaking up with Jesus (don't worry, it was semi-amicable) and all religious dogma for that matter, my tolerance for anything remotely spiritual could be measured in the negative umpteenths to the fifth power. Be it crystals & doTerra or actual scriptural doctrine being pontificated at me while I'd sit in an uncomfortable seat on football day, I really had/have zero space in my conscience to wrestle with it anymore. It just makes me want to emotionally vomit. Same goes for you too atheists! I'm so exhausted with people who know they know. Agnosticism, for me, has been my sleep number for sometime now and I've come to love folks who give the "I don't know" answer, when they in fact, don't fucking know. Ah, so beautiful to see humbleness in its true form. 

This all being said, I still battle with a sometimes unhealthy fascination with coincidence. My evolution over the past two-three years has pin-balled between, "That's a sign," to "Is that a sign?" to "Nothing is real and nothing matters and I'm indifferent about everything because nothing is real and nothing matters!!!" So here's a true tale of a number of chronological, definitive, "That's a sign" moments that thrust themselves upon me about two and a half years ago. 

So, let me tell you how this baby (Otto) got all bornded. It's a miraculous story of sometimes too-far-reaching logic, superstitious psychic mumbo-jumbo, a radio station, a bullhorn, crustaceans, Patsy Cline, the Supremes, a whole lot of coinkydink and yes, condom-less sex. Let me say this; I do stand by the fact that babies are fucking miracles, while also understanding that there's a shit-ton of basic physiology and science that logically forms them lumps of beans together. Nevertheless, I continue enamored at the magic of science and vice versa. So, calm down all you asshole skeptics and kid-haterz (aka people who brunch). Also, note to Brunchers: You're an alcoholic and your dog is not a person. (There I said it) :) So here we go.

Lendy (my current fiancé, but non-fiancé at the time) and I were just about four months into our courtship, when we started to suspect a lil' bub might be coming our way. About a month before our suspicions began to arise, we/I had a small incident during the sex, where I, an irresponsible, twice divorced, 39-year old, already father of three children, may not've been quick enough on the withdrawal with thee ol' one (two, tops) shooter. "Why would you do that, John?' lots of people have asked. Well, the only answer I could give you is, "I don't know" or "Because," I guess. What do you want from me?!?! I did something that literally every generation before me did. Fuck you! (I'm sorry, back to the story)

One month or so after the incident, Lendy was at the salon where she worked and her boss happened to be in need of a lady product. Lendy happily obliged her employer, which sparked a conversation about periods or whatever, I wasn't there. At some point Lendy mentions to her boss, that she's lucky she had some extra lady products, because she needed a few the day before because of some light spotting. (Also, my mentioning of "lady products" isn't because I'm uncomfortable. I just can't remember if it was pads or tampons. I'm an adult). So their discussion continued and Lendy revealed that spotting had stopped, which prompted her boss to ask, "When did you last have sex?" Lendy then replied, "last week." "Oh girl, you're pregnant," her boss retorted. And then follows it up with a story about how she had a dream a few months prior that two people in the salon were going to get pregnant and how the dream was so vivid that she went to a psychic to inquire deeper. The psychic tells her that in a few months, two people in the salon will become pregnant...yeah.

So later that day, (the day Lendy's boss delivered her psychic riff) Lendy and I had to take a three hour (each way) road trip up to Redding, CA from Sacramento, CA to drop up her son off with his dad. On the car ride up, Lendy tells me what her boss said as I sat there in skeptical denial. Lots of "psh...no way...huh?...pshh...probably not...right?" sounds we're coming from my mouth. Once her boy was dropped off, we decided to drive back to Sacramento and take a stop in Chico, where one of my favorite bars (Duffys) is. Chico is a little off the regular path, but we wanted to grab a drink and hang out for a bit since it was Friday. 

As we left Redding, we continued to talk about her boss's dream and the "psh...no ways" became "Huh...what ifs?" My personal transformation in attitude from denial to consideration astonished me. The whole time I was contemplating the situation, my heart or soul or inner-whatever was still and at peace with the possibility of another baby coming along. This shouldn't have been the case though. I had ended past relationships if even the hint of baby-wanting came up. I've literally taken a hammer fist to the back of the neck because I told an ex-gf that I didn't want to have a baby. I had literally said out loud that the "baby chapter of my life has been closed." There was no way I shouldn't have been panicking.

So back to the road trip: When driving from Redding to Chico you have a few different options in the back roads you can take. The normal way I'd gone in the past was on Hwy 32 in a little town named Corning. (Tom Waits is rumored to live there). But if you're heading south from Redding, there is Hwy 36, which will also get you to Hwy 99 which goes through Chico. Being that I hadn't been that way before, I decided to take that way instead. 

As we get a few miles in, we see a small church to the left which has a sign that reads, "Love your ?" I think of the easy answer in my head, "Neighbor." Well the very next road on the right is Lindy Lane. "Love your Lindy?" I think. Well, (take a second) the very next road is mother-fucking "Childs Ave.!!!" "Love your Lindy Childs!?!?!" On a road I wasn't gonna take?!?!?! While currently discussing a potential child?!?!?! With a person named "Lendy"?!?!? What in the actual shit?!?!?! Don't believe me? Well, take a look for yourself.

Ok, you may be thinking, "No big deal John, this is just a coincidence." Well, buckle up then, because this is just the first of the "signs."

  

As we continue south on the Golden State Hwy (99), our conversation playfully and nonchalantly moves to baby names. That's the way I deal with potential horror by the way; joking about it to its full extent, until myself or the other person becomes uncomfortable or angry. It's a weird protective mechanism that resides within me for some yet unearthed reason (I'm sure it'll come up when I can afford therapy again). Anywho, as we throw names to and fro, Lendy says I like the name "Reeves," as we pull into the small town of Los Molinas.

At this point I begin to laugh and shout, "No fucking way!"

So, let's pause the story here for a second. This is where things get a little more tedious. About two months before this road trip, I was in a really, really bad place. I was between jobs (unemployed), living in a small room and trying to get my life back together. I, since divorcing my kids' mother five years prior, had been doing everything in my power to see my kids on a weekly basis. Their mother was living with the kids at her parents house, rent free, all while taking half of my income through child support. This situation is a whole other bitter blog post. Bottom line, I was not in a very positive scenario. Not complaining, just setting the scene.

One afternoon, I was in the parking lot of a Wal Mart because I needed to buy some storage containers for my clothes. I wasn't exactly living in my car, but I was definitely living out of it. As I was transferring and organizing all of my clothes into containers (trying my best to not seem homeless), an older woman came up to me and just started in with small talk. Immediately I thought she was homeless, so I was poised to hand her all the change in my pocket. I reached out my hand to offer it to her, but she politely declined. It's funny, because I wasn't really in the mood to talk. I just wanted to pay her off with coins so I could get back to folding, but she just lingered there. She asked if I was living in my car and I gave her the same line I gave you a second ago. (I wasn't living in my car but...). Her eyes repeatedly darted past me and into my car. She seemed concerned for my well-being and asked if I was ok. I gave her the standard, "Things could be better, but I'm good." She then began to share with me that she lives in her van with her pets and how she takes care of an elderly woman and how that elderly woman will sometimes slip her a few "Norcos" for her back "Praise the Lord."

The moment the woman mentioned "Norcos" I was suddenly ushered back to my childhood, like the food critic in that animate movie Ratatouille. My mother was always scheming for "Norcos" like a nerd playing Pokemon Go. As the woman kept talking about her situation (which I politely listen to) I was only able to fixate on her face. She looked a lot like my mother (who had passed away 20-years early of a heroin overdose). I couldn't get past the fact that this obviously homeless woman wouldn't take my change and seemed to take some interest in how I was doing. To be totally honest, after our brief conversation ended, I drove away believing  that I may've just spoken to a some weird version of my mother. I know, strange, but that's the vibe I left with.

Later that evening I spoke to Lendy about it and shared that I got a super strange "mom vibe" from this lady. We joked around about it for a while and ended up just having a conversation about my childhood and mother. My mother was born in Oklahoma to a Cherokee mother and a big ol' redneck father. She embraced both sides with such vigor that she was allowed to name one of her grandkids (my niece) Turquoise. Once Lendy heard that story, she teasingly said, "Thank god your mom was already dead when you had your kids, because you'd have a daughter named 'Indigo' or some shit." We both laughed and went on with our evening.

Ok, let's rejoin the road trip...again: So we see Reeves Rd., and I stop the car and make the comment, "Ok, if the word "Indigo" comes up this evening, you're preggo." We make the deal and shook on it.  We finally get to Chico and pull up to Duffys where we both have to piss pretty bad, so we dart to the two bathrooms in the hallway. Lendy enters the one vacant bathroom (because I'm a gentleman) as I lean against the wall of flyers and thumb through my phone. As Lendy closes the bathroom door, the jukebox pips up and plays..."Baby Love" by the Supremes, which causes me to laugh "really?" under my breath. I immediately text Lendy, "Really? Baby Love?" She takes about a minute and texts back, "Ok, I get it." Her text-back kinda threw me off a bit. "Ok, you get it?" I text back. She exits the bathroom and says, "Yeah, I get it. Why did you text me that four times?" and shows me her phone with four texts from me, of the same message over and over of "Really? Baby Love?" I show her my phone and it only show that I sent it once...weird.

                                                                                                We grab a couple of lite beers (because we still have over an hour of driving to do) and grab a table to chat. By this time the universe was done mocking us with the jukebox and had gone silent. I asked Lendy what she wanted to hear and she said "Anything Patsy Cline." We both love Patsy. I approach the jukebox, and already turned to the correct page was Patsy Cline. The display of her CD sat at the top left of the page. I'm not sure if this is too specific, but some jukeboxes display three CDs on each page and are numbered from top to bottom. Patsy Cline's CD was at the top and there were two cds below hers, which were numbered 65 and 66, making Patsy's CD #64. Upon closer look, you can see that the "6" was missing, leaving only a "4" in it's place. I went back months later to see if the "6" was still missing, but it looks like it's been replaced...although it does look like it's barely hanging on... (see pic on the right)                

Okay, here's the sign that could be "a bit of a reach," but bare with me please. The number "4" has always come up in my life, but here's the connection I made. If Lendy was pregnant, it would be my fourth child. Also, I am John Morris Ross the IV. So, four was making itself known that day through Patsy and the number of texts. That's all I'll say about that.

So we finish our drinks and soberly leave Duffys to head back to Sacramento. It's about an hour and a half to get home so we turn on the radio and ready ourselves for the dark lonely road home. There's not much to see on 99 between Chico and Sacramento except almond orchards and rice fields. We get about 15-20 minutes down the road and we spot a structure on the right side of the road with a glowing, pink shape fixed to the broadside of it. It was dark, so I'm not sure if it was a barn or not. Either way, the the shape was supposed to be of steer horns I'm guessing, but it really just looked like a giant pink outline of ovaries just floating in the distance. 

  

Lendy and I both shake our heads and continue on down the road. Lendy lowers her seat back and decides get a little shut eye, while having half-conversations with me. I turn on the radio and ask her what she'd prefer. She, being a fan of sci-fi says, "Oh, let's listen to Coast to Coast AM." Coast to Coast AM is a radio show that been on the air for years and examines all the theories involving conspiracies, aliens and supernatural happenings. It's kind of a creepy show if you ask me, but I'll tune in every now and again if I'm driving late on the road. So, I find Coast to Coast AM on the dial and the subject of "Supernatural Phenomena" comes up and a ton of crazies do their thing for a while. Then, out of the blue, a woman calls in and utters the following words, "Hey Jim (the guest host) I believe that I am an Indigo Child." AN INDGO CHILD!!! My body suddenly becomes engulfed in chills and I slap my knee and yell, "Oh, you're fucking pregnant!" and start laugh/crying. Lendy sits up and turns up the radio and the woman repeats that she is an Indigo Child and starts going in on how she can predict when people die and all kinds of other shit not pertaining to the topic of the show. She tried to steer the topic toward "Indigo Children" but the host cuts her short and pulls the focus back to the original topic and politely lets her go.  WHAT!?!?!?!

We finally get home, still high from all the signs we believe the universe is screaming at us, and start discussing and doing the math of when this baby might be born, should Lendy be pregnant. We settle on "sometime on July" and finish our conversation and goto bed. The next morning we wake up late to a light rain coming down and make some coffee. We both look out the front window of Lendy's dad's house and see something moving in the little rock garden just outside the front door. We go outside to inspect it and crawling through the wet rocks is an actual fetus! Kidding. It was a crawdad. (See above and to the left) "What's the significance of the crawdad John?" Ok, here's another logic strain for you. So if the baby was going to be born in July, it would be born under the astrological sign of the crab...which is related to the crawdad. So...yeah, these's that. I know, roll your eyes all you want, but it was strange for a crawdad to just show up in the yard that day. 

A couple of days later Lendy, per my constant prodding, took one of the two pregnancy tests in the package. She went in to pee as I impatiently stood outside the door. After what seemed like a double-eternity, she comes out to reveal that she is not pregnant. "Hmmm?" I think. What about all those signs though?" Although somewhat relived, we both also feet a little duped by the gods. Like, "What was all that hubbub, huh universe?"

Another week passes and Lendy decides to try once more with the second pee stick. We were in the middle of watching something on TV when she went to take a leak, so we just sat there until the end of the show to go back in the bathroom to check. We were both super-nervous and reluctant knowing that both results would come with some sort of emotional consequence. Again, feeling ghosted by the universe sucked. It made me feel crazy and irritated with the Mystical. I knew I'd get over it, but I also knew that it would shore up my disbelief towards anything spiritually bigger than me. For some reason that saddened me a bit. Lendy and I walked back to the bathroom and before we could turn the overhead light on, you could see that the test was positive. Wow! We hugged and began looking at each other differently than we had before. We were going to be the parents of someone; someone that the universe told us about. That sounds crazy right? It is crazy, for sure...but it happened.

On July 12th, 2017, to the sound of Queen's "I want to Break Free," Lendy West masterfully brought Otto Cline West Ross into this world. Is he an Indigo Child? We don't know yet. But the few things we do know is, is that he is a happy baby who loves to run and kick soccer balls, wake up in the middle of the night, remove all the spoons from the silverware drawer, give big hugs while also choking your neck with his hands and dancing to the Wiggles.