I wasn't worried about a mom belly.

I saw a fitness influencer post recently that her biggest fear after having kids was stubborn belly fat and a mom pooch that would never go away.

A flashback hit me hard, to my own postpartum period after my second child was born when I spent hours and days crying on the bathroom floor. I don't know why, but I had to go there and sob for solid lengths of time. The cold, hard surface was weirdly soothing and real. Crying in bed would just not do for the kind of visceral darkness I was struggling to fight off.

I was pretty untethered from the real world, both mentally and physically as I took parental leave from my corporate job (lucky though I was to have the option), and mired in indescribable sadness. In hindsight, this was obviously deep postpartum depression, but I was lacking the perspective to see it at the time. And it wasn't my first rodeo -- this was my second child and I had experienced all of these symptoms the first time around.

I'm fortunate to have an attentive husband who saw what was going on and flat out tattled on me to our son's pediatrician. Right in front of me even. It wasn't funny at the time, but now I kind of wish I could have seen the look on my own face.

This isn't just a me thing though, and it's important to understand the scope of the issue. The National Institutes of Health estimate about 1 in 7 women experience postpartum depression (PPD) and/or anxiety (PPA). Postpartum Support International puts the number closer to 1 in 5 moms suffering from PPD.

So some of us are worried about a mom belly. And some of us are wondering if we’d be better off dead because we’re no good to our family anyway. Not all of us experience the postpartum transition in the same way. If you’re concerned about your body, I’m not here to shame you. You are allowed that concern, and you’re allowed to work on that if it helps you relocate yourself in the wild throes of early motherhood. It means you care about YOU.

If you’re in the bathroom floor lot, know you are absolutely not alone. You may be alone in this moment though, and the inherent loneliness that comes with the postpartum phase definitely won’t help you come out of it. Please tell a friend, a family member, your partner, or anyone in your life who you consider a safe adult. Ask them to help you figure it out and get you treatment. The sooner you recognize that days on end of crying and hopelessness are not just part of the job of motherhood, but likely a sign of postpartum depression or anxiety (or both), the sooner you can get the help required to leave that place. There are no bootstraps to pull yourself up by when your hormones are on Mr. Toad's Wild Ride and you're chronically sleep-deprived.

This bathroom floor phase of my life, horrifying as it is to admit to on the internet, is why I’m adding what value I can by starting postpartum yoga and support groups. There aren't enough community-building options out there for women struggling through the newborn phase. So while this is a tiny drop in a large bucket, it's something. Stay tuned for details about groups starting in September, and don't hesitate to seek support if you see yourself in my story. I'm here, just an email away at amandasoltyoga@gmail.com, and many more resources are available to you immediately.

• Call or text 988 for the Suicide & Crisis Lifeline (free, confidential, 24/7).

• Call or text 1-833-TLC-MAMA (1-833-852-6262) for the National Maternal Mental Health Hotline (24/7 free support for pregnant and new moms).

• Call 1-800-944-4773 or text "Help" to 800-944-4773 via Postpartum Support International.