I’m not sure why, (maybe its our current state of transition) but lately I’ve been thinking a lot about possible future babies, specifically the one that would come next. I find myself daydreaming about holding that child in my arms. It brings so many emotions to the surface. There’s the “what if something goes wrong again?” and the “Will I feel guilty over the excitement of a living baby when I still so very much miss George Mason” and then there’s the, “How will I ever get over the fact that this precious babe never met their big brother??” or the “I’m so terrified of the possible outcomes, maybe we shouldn’t have any more at all” …


Its a black hole of self induced fear and anxiety and I need to snap myself back to the one thing that will calm all of that: God. God knows that I so desperately want a big family. He knows that I will always be missing my son. He knows that if and when there are more little ones added to our family that I’m going to be a hot mess. He knows that the emotions that will come of welcoming another life into the McGough tribe are not going to be easy. He understands the fears and anxiety. He understands that overwhelming desire for more kiddos - He put it there after all. He, and only He, knows what our future holds and exactly what we need to not only get through it but to enjoy living in it.


As we close this chapter of our lives and move on from this house we have called home, I’m finding the future to be an overwhelming thought. I’m not super content in my current state of right now, but I’m often so boggled down by the sheer reality that there is even a future (because a future without George Mason feels so very wrong) to be worried about, that I just ignore the desires to think and dream. I’ve always been a dreamer; out loud and big. I’ve never felt like anything was out of reach or that if I envisioned something that we couldn’t work towards making that a reality. The future, but more specifically the big picture of my daydreams, has always been a fun place for me to go. But when George Mason died, the future suddenly became daunting. I know that God is at work in this life. That He is the steady line in this story I’m living. He is the one constant that we can count on every single day. So when the future becomes a scary place for me, I need to remember to just look to God. He’s going to comfort me in that moment of exhausted fear. He’s going to bring the scariest thoughts of my imagination to a halt. He’s going to show me, remind me, that this moment I’m in is beautiful. It is formative. It is an important part of my story and His work on this earth. That George Mason, though he only lived for 16 hours, made a huge impact on this life and the people that know and love him and me.


I don’t know what the future holds for us. I do know, though, that it looks much different than I could have ever dreamed or imagined. I’m not really ok with that, but I’m trusting that even though ok might not define my thoughts surrounding our future, peace and joy will always be present. That God will always be present. That the memories I have of George Mason will stay with me forever. That I will know, somehow, how to introduce him to his siblings. That our family will always remember the missing person in the pictures. Those are the things that I can know. Those are the things that can make this scary, unknown future, seem a little less daunting and a lot more exciting.


Remember my affliction and my wanderings,

the wormwood and the gall!

My soul continually remembers it

and is bowed down within me.

But this I call to mind,

and therefore I have hope:

The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases;

his mercies never come to an end;

they are new every morning;

great is your faithfulness.

“The Lord is my portion,” says my soul,

“therefore I will hope in him.”

The Lord is good to those who wait for him,

to the soul who seeks him. - Lamentations 3:19-25

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