will travel through the fallopian tube and implant itself in the uterus. During pregnancy, the egg, or embryo, grows into a fetus inside the uterus, which expands in size to accommodate the developing baby. A woman carries the baby in her uterus, or womb, until the baby is ready to be born.
When a woman’s body expels all the eggs produced by the ovaries during the course of her lifetime, menopause begins and the ability to reproduce ends. Menopause should really be called “egglessness.” It’s a friendlier term. Before we get to eggless, however, our hormones begin to decline subtly, in what we call perimenopause. Meaning you can still reproduce but it will become more difficult to conceive, difficult to carry to full term, and the eggs left are often not as strong and healthy. Sometimes, but not always, this leaves babies born to moms at risk for birth defects and health conditions.
As fully reproductive women we make enough estrogen each month so that it reaches its peak on the twelfthday, stops the growth of cells, and makes progesterone receptors. Without an estrogen peak, your brain can’t send the signal to release any of the eggs you have left. With no estrogen peak there’s no feedback information to shut off follicle-stimulating hormone, so FSH pours constantly, over-stimulating your ovaries and ripening all at once most of the eggs you have left. The loss of this rhythm in perimenopause actually triggers the destruction of the rest of your eggs through the action of excessive FSH, using up the remainder of your eggs. At about this time, you begin to feel the heat of hot flashes. That’s how the system effectively shuts itself down for good. This process can take a decade—a
long
uncomfortable decade!
This is all background to explain why the healthiest woman is a reproductive woman, and once hormones begin to decline, new science has proved that replacing the missing hormones restores a woman to her healthiest prime even though she is no longer capable of making a baby.
What I did know was that now I felt different. I was getting used to the ups and downs of the surges of sex hormones and menstrual cycles, as well as the (very welcome) growth of pubic hair, breasts, and sex feelings. Now I felt that I was like all the other girls.
But then my breasts kept growing. (Wow, be careful what you wish for!) I started out at fifteen wearing a scant 32A cup (padded), hardly filling it, and by the summer of my sixteenth year I was an overflowing 34C that could hardly be contained. My breasts grew so big and so fast on my skinny little body that they were a little embarrassing, but I liked the attention I was getting from having them, including attention from my lecherous drama teacher who would say highly inappropriate things to me when no one was around. I got the part of Adelaide in
Guysand Dolls
partly due to my talent, partly due to my shapely, curvy body, and partly because that lecherous one wanted me around. My father didn’t like the new me at all. My body seemed to make him angry, and he would say things like, “For chrissakes, put some clothes on.”
BYE-BYE PUBERTY
Transitioning into womanhood, like all transitions, is an agitating and confusing experience. It’s a long, bumpy, uncomfortable road; but then you adjust to the excitement, privileges, and challenges of being an adult. This is also a time when your hormones reach their maximum. By the time you are in your twenties and thirties, you enter a period of remarkable high energy, clear thinking, and all the drama of being an adult and building your adult life. You don’t quite know who you are yet in most cases, but you sure are having fun. Your body is the best looking it will ever be; your breasts are high and perky, and your sex drive is off the charts. You are oozing estrogen. For most people this is a time of perfect hormonal balance. Diet affects your hormones at this time like any time, but your youth withstands the assault