Stressful events do not impact the whole brain in a uniform fashion, but instead the effects are region specific, exhibiting some of the largest effects in the amygdala and hippocampus. The amygdala and the hippocampus exhibit differential effects of stress that occurs in adulthood, and often contrasting, such that stress decreases size, complexity, and activity of the hippocampus (reviewed in Lupien et al.,
2007; Bremner et al.,
2008) and shows the opposite effects in the amygdala (larger, more reactive amygdala) (Liberzon et al.,
1999; Rauch et al.,
2000; Armony et al.,
2005). The differences between the two structures seem to be partially related to the time course of the molecular events that occur between the two structures that follows stress. This cascade begins in the amygdala, which exerts molecular and chemical downstream effects on the hippocampus. Cells in the amygdala participate in the earliest reaction to environmental stressors, often initiating the HPA cascade. They are quickly activated by stress and express immediate-early genes (Honkaniemi et al.,
1992), whereas the hippocampus begins to play its role later in the cascade, negatively feeding back on the HPA axis to inhibit its activity (Herman and Cullinan,
1997). CRH-induced seizures produce the earliest discharges in the amygdala (Baram et al.,
1992), which propagate later to the hippocampus (Haas et al.,
1990). Therefore, stress-induced changes in the amygdala may have downstream effects on the HPA axis that over time can change the structure and function of later stages in the axis (Brunson et al.,
2001b), like the hippocampus. These timing differences may contribute to the reasons why hippocampal alterations tend to developmentally follow amygdala alterations from stress (Admon et al.,
2009).
Observation of these effects may depend on when they are measured. The effects of early-life adversity have been observed in the amygdala during development (Sabatini et al.,
2007; Mehta et al.,
2009; Tottenham et al.,
2009b). Although there is evidence for molecular-level stress-induced changes in the immature hippocampus (e.g., Hatalski et al.,
2000; Chen et al.,
2006), stress-induced changes in the hippocampus are often difficult to observe during the juvenile period, but may be apparent later in life. Maternal deprivation stress in non-human primates failed to show hippocampal differences as measured by structural MRI in the age-equivalent of childhood (Spinelli et al.,
2009). Rodent studies that have manipulated timing of stress and time of measurement have found that hippocampal alterations may be developmentally delayed and appear later in life; neonatal maternal deprivation did not result in a drop in hippocampal synaptophysin (a synapse related protein) until postnatal day 60 (adulthood; Andersen and Teicher
2004). Behaviors that depend on the hippocampus follow a similar trajectory; early-life insults often result in “acquired” cognitive decline, only appearing in older animals, not younger (Brunson et al.,
2005). During early-adulthood, the hippocampally-mediated cognitive decline associated with maternal deprivation was unobservable and were not apparent until animals were middle-aged. These behavioral impairments are accompanied by decreased hippocampal LTP, dendritic atrophy, and mossy fiber expansion – hippocampal phenotypes typically associated with stress that occurs in adulthood (McEwen,
1999). It is noteworthy that, unlike with the mature hippocampus, which shows recovery after the termination of a stressor, stress administered early in life has long-term effects on the hippocampus.
Contributing to the differences between the two regions during development may be the differential emergence of HPA-related peptides following stress. Stress hormones and CRH mRNA production in amygdala have a developmentally early onset, appearing as early as postnatal day 2 in the rat (Avishai-Eliner et al.,
1996; Vazquez et al.,
2006), an earlier onset than in the hippocampus (Fenoglio et al.,
2004). This discrepant time course between the amygdala and hippocampus maybe related to the modulatory role that the amygdala has over the hippocampus (Packard and Teather,
1998). These temporal discrepancies appear early in life, where stressful events produce elevations in CRH that occur first in the amygdala and are observed only afterwards in the hippocampus (reviewed in Baram and Hatalski,
1998). Environmental manipulations that result in changes in stress-related gene expression (CRH/GR receptors) are apparent in the amygdala at an age when they are not present in the hippocampus (during the early postnatal period). Neonatal separation stress resulted in an increase in CRF containing neurons in the amygdala, but not the hippocampus in juvenile rodents (Becker et al.,
2007). Taken together these data illustrate the interaction between developmental timing and timing of stress exposure (Fenoglio et al.,
2004) and suggest that the amygdala response to stressors is a temporal prerequisite for hippocampal changes following stress (Kim et al.,
2001). In support of this postulate, a rare prospective study with new recruits to the Israeli Defense Forces showed that while amygdala and hippocampal activity closely correlated with subjective reported stress, hippocampal vulnerability to stress depended on how hyperactive the initial amygdala response was (Admon et al.,
2009).
If future studies continue to show that the effects of stress occur in the amygdala developmentally earlier than the hippocampus, it might shed some light on the timing effects often observed in human neuroimaging studies. Evidence from the human literature supporting this temporal hypothesis is mounting. The effects of adversity on these two regions vary by when the stressor was administrated and by age at which testing occurred. For example, larger amygdala volumes are observed during childhood following neonatal early adverse caregiving, although no hippocampal differences were observed (Tottenham et al.,
2009b). Age at test is critical since developmental studies that include adolescent subjects often do not find amygdala differences following trauma exposure (Carrion et al.,
2001; De Bellis et al.,
2001,
1999b). These amygdala effects are typically unobservable, or have not been measured, in adults who experienced childhood stress (Bremner et al.,
1997; Cohen et al.,
2006), where it has even been reported that childhood stress may actually result in smaller amygdala volumes in adulthood (Driessen et al.,
2000). This pattern suggests that initial stress-induced hypertrophy and hyperactivity of amygdala neurons eventually leads to neuronal atrophy or cell death by adulthood (Teicher et al.,
2003), a pattern identified in other populations (e.g., autism spectrum disorders) who demonstrate amygdala hypertrophy in childhood followed by smaller volumes in adulthood (Schumann et al.,
2004). Effects of trauma do not appear in amygdala volumetric measures in adulthood, while such effects are observable in the hippocampus (reviewed in Lupien et al.,
2007; Bremner et al.,
2008), leaving open the possibility that hippocampal effects may not emerge until adulthood, possibly as a result of stress-induced changes in the amygdala.
It is also possible that the hippocampus (perhaps due unique developmental timelines) is less vulnerable to stress effects early in life than the amygdala (at least as measured by volume). This may be related to the developmental timing of the structural development of these two structures. As noted earlier, there are data consistent with the hypothesis that amygdala development slightly precedes hippocampal development, and this developmental differential may have consequences for each structure's vulnerability. Alternatively, hippocampal effects may be masked during development. Perhaps measuring changes in volume caused by stress are difficult in the context of developmental changes (Giedd et al.,
1996) as measured by MRI. The assertion that the developing hippocampus is entirely invulnerable to environmental stressors is weakened by molecular studies in rodents that show that juvenile stress is followed by altered expression of molecules involved in neural development and synaptic plasticity (i.e., neural cell adhesion molecules), effects that extend into adulthood (Tsoory et al.,
2008) (Isgor et al.,
2004). Perhaps volumetric studies may not be sensitive enough to show stress-induced hippocampal changes in childhood, although the effects in the amygdala are robust enough to be observed by this measure.
Technological advances are improving our ability to better address these questions in humans. Using diffusion tensor imaging, DTI, studies have replicated and extended findings from volumetric studies of adversity. In one study young adults exposed to verbal abuse as children had significant differences in the white matter tracts associating medial temporal lobe structures to the prefrontal cortex (cingulum bundle) and the fornix fibers of the hippocampus (Choi et al.,
2009). DTI reveals the structural connectivity of neural structures and may aid researchers in better describing how associations between structures, such as the ones hypothesized here between the amygdala and hippocampus support developmental patterns in the effects of stress exposure. Other methods for exploring associations between structures such as resting state fMRI, or resting state functional connectivity have not yet been employed in the service of understanding the effect of adversity on neural development. But these techniques have been used to great effect in understanding development generally (Fair and Dosenbach,
2007; Fair and Cohen,
2008) and in defining functionally connected regions of interest in individual subjects (Cohen et al.,
2008) a technique which would be well suited to the investigation of individual differences associated with stress. In addition, resting state connectivity and DTI could be used in a range of ages down to children as young as 2

years who have been successfully studied while asleep (Redcay and Courchesne,
2008). Thus, through a combination of connectivity and volumetric studies, it would be possible to, in children as young as 2 and extending through adulthood, examine the structural and functional networks that underlie the embedding of adversity, and directly test the hypothesis, proposed here, that amygdala changes lead and produce hippocampal effects of adversity.
The techniques proposed here have in common with volumetric studies that they can be performed in the same way with children, adolescents, and adults. Notably absent are functional neuroimaging techniques which require the use of a task. In examining the developmental effects of adversity the use of functional neuroimaging presents potential challenges. Examining functional differences across studies is difficult because subtle differences in experimental design disallow certain findings. In addition, across ages the same task may be more salient and/or more difficult. For example a young child may not understand a task which includes a great deal of peer feedback about behavior where as an adolescent will both understand this task and peer feed back will be a very salient emotional stimulus. Including information like this in the interpretation of results can be difficult. These caveats aside, neural activation is most closely linked to behavior and obtaining functional neuroimaging data as a function of early adversity would have the potential to expose important differences and similarities structure-function relationships.
Transitions between developmental stages have not been studied extensively with regard to early adversity, and longitudinal work that includes a close examination of transitions into childhood and adolescence is necessary to delineate the effects of early adversity. Indeed, there is some behavioral evidence that the effects of early adverse caregiving may exacerbate once children age into adolescence. In a longitudinal study of children adopted from Romanian orphanages, Rutter and colleagues have shown that unlike other domains of development (e.g., cognitive development, height, head circumference) which show massive catch-up following removal from orphanage care, there was a significant increase in emotional difficulties caused by institutional care once children transitioned into adolescence (Colvert et al.
2008). These findings are consistent with the notion that the transition into adolescence potentially marks another period when the environment can exert large effects on the brain (Sisk and Foster,
2004; Schulz et al.,
2009). Findings from the rodent suggest that pubertal onset may be an important agent in amplifying or making obvious environmental influences on brain development. For example, stress-induced sex difference in hippocampally-dependent trace learning only emerge after adolescence (Hodes and Shors,
2005), perhaps as a result of the organizing effects of increased pubertal testosterone on the hippocampus (reviewed in Sisk and Zehr,
2005.
Thus far we have considered the timing of stress exposure as a variable that may moderate the effect this variable has on the hippocampus and amygdala. There are various other aspects of stress that may modify its impact on neural structures. Chief among these are the kind and duration of stress. Because stress is chiefly a psychologically defined construct (Gunnar and Quevedo,
2007), one that is subjective in nature, determining which stressors (e.g., abuse vs. neglect) are “the worst” is difficult since there are multiple stressors that can present challenges to the individual's homeostasis. However, certain aspects of stress, for example, controllability and predictability may be particularly effective at influencing HPA activity (Davis and Levine,
1982). Presumably the stressors described throughout this manuscript are unpredictable and uncontrollable from the standpoint of the infant or child experiencing them, thus increasing the potential impact of early stressors. Stress duration should additionally be considered as a factor, since chronic stressors may affect neural development differently, often detrimentally, than single instance traumatic events (reviewed in Brunson et al.,
2003). Again, the literature reviewed throughout this manuscript provides examples of chronically stressful environments. Nonetheless, dose-response relationships between stress duration and brain development have been reported (Brunson et al.,
2001a; Mehta et al.,
2009; Tottenham et al.,
2009b). A final variable that should be considered when examining the effect of adversity on neural development is the temporal context in which neural development is tested. For example we argue here that amygdala development and its modification by stress precedes that of the hippocampus. However many developmental studies of traumatic stressors (for example, studies of child abuse) may occur when children are still under a great deal of stress. Duration since stressor needs to be considered, since the amygdala and hippocampus may have different recovery rates (Vyas et al.,
2004; Yang et al.,
2007). For example, when measured almost a decade after removal from orphanages, post-institutionalized children show amygdala hypertrophy and hyperactivity, but do not show differences in hippocampal structure (Mehta et al.
2009; Tottenham et al.,
2009b). However, differences in duration since stressor cannot account for all of the data since many studies (in older individuals) show decreased hippocampus years after stress termination (Andersen et al.,
2008), suggesting again that developmental timing of exposure will influence the outcome measure. Nonetheless, more control over duration since stressor is warranted in order to better understand the effects of adversity. To summarize, we suggest that (1) early life is a period of increased vulnerability although the effects of stress may be difficult to detect for years (as seems to be the case with the hippocampus) (2) stress-induced changes in amygdala (initial increases in activity and growth) are apparent earlier in life and more robustly than the hippocampus (decreases in growth), and (3) later in life, when hippocampal changes are finally apparent, the initial amygdala volume increases may ultimately change to volumetric decreases (although it may remain hyperactive).