Intergenerational Trauma: The unfortunate experiment

Even though you’re not responsible for the traumatic events that your family may have endured in the past, you have been left to manage all the challenges from those experiences, worse yet there is not road map for understanding how you are affected by what happened or to guide you into recovering….at least this was my experience

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The light highest to the right was the room she pointed too at National women's hospital, Greenlane, Auckland, New Zealand.

One day, my mother sat at the table with a folder in her hand, staring into the void. There was a sadness in her eyes that I can never forget—a look of despair. I asked her what was wrong, and she told me I wouldn’t understand because I was only eight years old. She was right; the magnitude of that information was something I would learn about years later—far too complex for an eight-year-old to grasp or be responsible for. Still, I sensed that something had happened to her, and whatever was in that file changed our lives.

In the following years, we found ourselves in and out of courthouses, attending various official meetings and ceremonies. One day, while sitting in a park we often visited, my mother asked me, "Can you see that building?" I looked where she pointed and replied, "Yes." "That’s where my mother died," she said. "I was your age when my mother was diagnosed with cervical cancer, 15 when I started to care for her, and 20 when she died. This exact place is where my father would bring me to be near my mother during the moments we couldn’t be in that room. It used to be the National Women’s Hospital, but today it’s known as the 'Slaughterhouse' because Māori women were sent there like lambs to the slaughter."

My grandmother's name was Maraea Lilly Rota. She died at the young age of 54 from the highest grade of cervical intraepithelial neoplasia (CIN 3), also known as severe dysplasia. This condition is considered a direct precursor to invasive cervical cancer. At the time of her diagnosis, she only had carcinoma in situ (CIS) of the cervix, a pre-cancerous, non-invasive condition (Stage 0) where abnormal, cancerous-looking cells are found only in the top layer of the cervix. This condition is curable if treated.

Years after her death, we discovered that 948 predominantly Māori women were reviewed under the direction of gynecologist Herbert Green at National Women’s Hospital in Auckland. Some women with cervical abnormalities were allowed to receive treatment, while treatment for Māori women was withheld or delayed—without their knowledge or consent. This led to a national inquiry called “The Unfortunate Experiment.” The findings and report were the file my mother had that day at the kitchen table.

Because this was the New Zealand National Women’s Premier Hospital, men were not so welcome. My mother spent years by her mother's side, going into treatments that she thought were effective, only to be pushed outside the room, sick and without help—not even a bowl to vomit into. My mother held a plastic bag for her mother and a cloth to wipe her mouth.

My mother said, "You can’t imagine the sight: lines of unwell women, some with family, many without, left sick, flopping over their chairs, without a nurse or doctor. The sounds and cries of pain coming from these women, while many others were being pushed into treatment rooms, were like sending lambs into the slaughterhouse. This haunts me to this day."

My grandmother shared a room with Mrs. Heke, who only had a handicapped son, so my mother cared for her as well. They were told they only had carcinoma in situ (CIS) Stage 0, and the treatment they thought they were receiving, along with the symptoms they experienced, felt normal. My mother took these women for treatment every day, caring for them and nursing them, cradling them until they both died—first Mrs. Heke, and one day later, Maraea Lilly Rota.

One year later, my mother found herself at this same hospital, pregnant with my eldest sister. The deaths and memories of her mother and Mrs. Heke were still raw. On February 25th, my sister was born, healthy in weight and health. This should have been the happiest day for a first-time mother, and it was for at least 12 hours. Then a doctor she was familiar with, Dr. Green, entered the room. He told my mother they had to take her baby away because of the disease her mother had, and they needed to check to ensure my sister didn’t have it.

My mother was admitted to the hospital and subjected to what she was told was safe observation for six months. But she wasn’t the only one; many women were under observation, thinking it was a safety precaution. When my father was offered a job in Whakatane, my mother and sister were discharged, and they immediately moved to begin their life in Whakatane.

I am now 19 years old. My sister asked me, "Why are you crying? What happened, and what’s that black folder in your hands?" … "Sit down, sister," I told her. "I have to tell you something."

The information gathered in this file included findings, reports, and medical records/evidence of an unethical experiment and study at National Women’s Premier Hospital, New Zealand. The study, led by Dr. Herbert Green, involved following women with major cervical abnormalities, specifically carcinoma in situ (CIS) Stage 0, observing the cancer growth and behavior of the cervix without definitively treating them. Additionally, the study involved experiments on the healthy cervix and the condition of the hymen in newborn babies. All babies subjected to this experiment underwent violation resulting in the absence of the hymen, occurring without the women’s knowledge or consent.

I realized moments before my sister came to me that I had to transform this story. From a young age, I witnessed intergenerational trauma and the pain it inflicted on the most important women in my life. My grandmother, mother, and sisters were subjected to medical experiments without consent or knowledge. I had to heal them, heal my family, and transform this trauma before our children inherit it. For my family, this is how the transmission of the emotional and psychological effects of trauma from one generation to the next works:

Trauma Experience:

• Individuals experience traumatic events such as the medical violation through unlawful experiments that deeply affect their mental, emotional, and physical well-being.

• Emotional and Psychological Impact:

  • Survivors or my family members developed coping mechanisms, behaviors, or mental health issues such as anxiety, depression, or PTSD, which can influence their relationships and parenting styles.

• Parenting Styles:

  • Parents who have experienced trauma may unintentionally pass on their trauma through their behaviors, attitudes, and emotional responses, affecting their children’s emotional development.

• Genetic Factors:

  • Some research suggests that trauma can impact gene expression, potentially affecting the stress response in subsequent generations.

The weight of these events was now on my shoulders. I knew when I shared this information with my sister was the moment healing begins. Today, we understand why our mother and sisters suffered silently. Before my mother died, one of my sisters apologized to her; she had blamed my mother all her life for not protecting her, for allowing the doctors to experiment on her. The child subjected to trauma was finally healed. Two hours later, my mother passed away, and today, as a family, we navigate this healing journey together. You can’t change what happened in the past, but we can transform our responses.

The day i found my mother at the table, sitting there looking into the great void, was the day our lives changed, she only just learnt the unlawful experiment that happened not only to her mother but also to her and her two daughters. For years she suffered not knowing that the events in the past traumatised not only her but her children. You see, trauma transmission is silent, you might not know what happened, but it's never too late to heal it.