there's no "good grief" charlie brown

I've always thought of sin in very childish terms--it's "being bad." And usually when I sin it's something I realize right away, or at least soon after, especially when I pray--it all seems to come back to me then, and instantly I remember that little "fib" that I told earlier, or how I said something in a way that may have hurt someone's feelings, or spoke about someone in that "concerned" way that borders dangerously on gossip. But yesterday in Pastor Jim's sermon I realized that I've been sinning in sort of a silent, secret way, and hurting myself and others. He talked about the 3 g's that can ruin Christmas for us: guilt, grief, and grudges. And I realized that I am definitely guilty of the second one.
This was a horrible weekend for me. I was just completely wrapped up in my sadness about the baby. It felt suffocating at times, like it was just literally pulling me down. Saturday night was the Christmas party at church, which is usually one of my favorite events the whole year, but this year I didn't even want to go. When we got there I just sat there and talked to no one, and if it weren't for Sarah and Linda coming over and sitting by me and talking to me (I think they sensed something was wrong, especially Linda) I probably would have just sat there the whole evening. It just seemed unfair to me, how could I laugh and enjoy myself when my little one never got to laugh or smile? But Pastor Jim got me thinking yesterday, and I realized that this season, this holiday Christmas, is not about me and it's not about the baby--it's about Jesus. And for me to bum around crying and sad during this time of year that's supposed to be joyful is disrespectful to Jesus. I thought of the Bible verse "make a joyful noise unto the Lord" and thought that God wants us to be happy.
It's not just myself I've been hurting either. After what happened to me when I got pregnant with Karry, I cut myself off from everyone. I lost all my high school friends because I quit talking to them--I didn't want to talk about what happened, and they could tell that something obviously had. So I stopped returning their calls and eventually they stopped calling. I stopped going to their houses and they quit coming to mine. I even quit my job and got a new one at a place where I didn't know anyone so I wouldn't have to talk to anyone (although I met Ed there, so that plan backfired!). I realize now that I've done the same thing this time. I held my friends and family at a distance and I've kept them there. Over the summer, especially during VBS, Karen and I became really good friends, but since losing the baby I haven't really called her or anything and now she barely speaks to me. The same thing's happened with a couple other people.
I need to get over my grief. I need to separate the memory of my baby from the grief of losing my baby. That's the hard part. I guess I feel like if I try to stop being sad then I'm "over" the baby, and it's not like that. Most of all, I need to be happy about this season, and the Reason for this season--the birth of Jesus, our Savior, who died for me so that I can see my baby--and Him-- in Heaven some day.