Behind the statistics, PCOS is not just a hormonal disorder, but a lived reality — of pain, miscarriages, and resilience — that influences how women navigate womanhood and fertility.
For many women, the journey to understanding their bodies is far from straightforward. In Nigeria, where conversations around reproductive health are often shrouded in stigma, women living with Polycystic Ovary Syndrome (PCOS) face a unique and complex reality. Beyond the missed periods and hormonal imbalances, PCOS can impact fertility, leaving many to navigate their womanhood under the weight of both biology and societal expectations. Yet, despite the pain, isolation, and uncertainty, many women are learning to tell their stories with resilience and grace.
We spoke with two women — Abi, a writer in her early 30s, and Azimat, a 20-year-old medical student — about living with PCOS. They discuss its impact on fertility, and how they’re redefining what womanhood means to them.
Discovering PCOS often starts with uncertainty
Abi was just 16 when she first heard the words Polycystic Ovary Syndrome. However, instead of clear medical explanations, she heard a warning: marry early so she could have children before it was “too late.”
“No one really explained the condition well,” she recalls. “All I was told was to make sure to marry early so that I can give birth.”
For Azimat, the diagnosis came at 15 after years of irregular periods and weight struggles. Her first doctor dismissed her concerns, reducing her symptoms to overeating. “He said I should just eat less and watch my weight,” she says. That experience triggered an unhealthy relationship with food. Her mother later helped her find another physician who acknowledged the seriousness of her symptoms.
Globally, PCOS affects up to 1 in 10 women of reproductive age, making it one of the most common hormonal disorders. Yet in Nigeria, like in many parts of the world, misdiagnosis and dismissal remain far too common.
Living with PCOS
Abi describes her early struggles with “really irregular periods, sometimes lasting up to two weeks,” as well as hirsutism — facial hair growth — that causes her to wax often. Treatments, including hormonal medication, eventually helped her manage symptoms.
For Azimat, the most debilitating symptom is dysmenorrhea — severe period pain. “Every month, I endure at least two days of life-altering, debilitating pain.” The physical toll is intense, but she says, “The psychological weight of knowing PCOS is chronic feels heavier.”
Read also: The realities of PCOS: “I went to three hospitals before I finally knew what was wrong with me”
Infertility, miscarriages, and emotional struggles
Abi has experienced miscarriages while trying to conceive. For her, the most difficult moments come during treatment cycles. “I think it’s while your follicles are growing, and you’re monitoring. You just hope and pray for it to work out,” she shares.
For women with PCOS, follicles (tiny sacs in the ovaries that hold immature eggs) often don’t mature properly. This makes ovulation — and therefore conception — more challenging. During fertility treatment, doctors monitor the growth of these follicles through regular scans, hoping they will develop into healthy eggs that can be released.
The emotional impact of PCOS-related infertility is undeniable. “It used to weigh me down emotionally,” Abi says. “However, I’ve learnt to not let it define my worth.”
Azimat, on the other hand, isn’t currently trying for children. However, after also being diagnosed with endometriosis, she admits she has made “silent peace” with the possibility of infertility. “If I ever want kids, I’d probably be open to adoption,” she says with quiet resolve.
Dealing with societal pressures and cultural expectations
Nigerian society often considers motherhood as central to womanhood. For women with PCOS, this expectation can intensify feelings of inadequacy. Azimat is more candid about the weight of cultural expectations. “Like the expectations that every woman must be a mother? Or that girls should know how to bear period pain and never complain? If you’re complaining about menstrual pain, people ask if you won’t go through labour.” she says, mimicking the dismissive remarks women often hear.
Abi has built strong boundaries to protect herself. “Luckily, I don’t face cultural or community pressures,” she explains. “Those who love me know how to talk to me, and I don’t entertain comments from strangers.”
Both women emphasise the importance of medical support. “Treatments definitely helped manage my symptoms greatly,” Abi says. “Eating clean and lifestyle changes are great, but you need medications to correct hormonal imbalances that are chronic.” She urges women to seek professional help rather than relying on unverified remedies.
For Azimat, coping is about self-love. “Therapy, music, yoga, meditation… they can only go so far,” she admits. “But loving myself and giving myself grace, on the days I feel pretty and the days I don’t — that’s what makes me intentionally live a worthwhile life.”
Thriving in spite of the diagnosis
PCOS may alter cycles, complicate fertility, and test resilience, but it does not define womanhood. Abi and Azimat’s stories reflect a truth that transcends medical diagnoses: women are whole, valuable, and powerful, even in the face of infertility.
In a society where silence often surrounds reproductive health, these voices remind us that openness, compassion, and medical support can change lives. And perhaps most importantly, they remind every woman living with PCOS: you are not alone.
Read more: Anxious about becoming a mother? I spoke to three women about motherhood anxiety and whether they want children
