Have you ever wondered how good your observation skills truly are? Some puzzles challenge our intellect, but others test our ability to notice small yet significant details that most people overlook. The image above presents such a challenge: Who is NOT pregnant?
At first glance, it appears that all seven women in the picture are pregnant. But if you take a closer look, you’ll realize that one of them is not. Can you spot her?
This puzzle requires a keen eye for detail, the ability to notice subtle differences in body posture, clothing, and physical alignment. If you can figure it out without help, congratulations! You have exceptional observational skills.
Let’s break this puzzle down step by step and reveal the correct answer.
Common Mistakes People Make When Solving This Puzzle
Many people rush to conclusions when solving visual puzzles. Here are some common errors that can lead to incorrect answers:
- Assuming that all the women are pregnant
- Since they are standing in a maternity ward, wearing scrubs, and holding their bellies, it’s easy to assume they are all expectant mothers. This is a trap for those who don’t take the time to analyze each individual carefully.
- Focusing only on the belly size
- Most people assume that the woman with the smallest belly must be the one who isn’t pregnant. However, belly size varies depending on the stage of pregnancy, so this method is unreliable.
- Not paying attention to posture and stance
- Pregnant women often stand slightly differently due to the extra weight on their front. If you don’t observe their posture carefully, you might miss this key clue.
Now, let’s go through the correct way to solve this puzzle.
Step-By-Step Guide to Finding the Right Answer
To determine which woman is NOT pregnant, follow these steps:
Video : Who’s NOT Pregnant? 🤔 Brain-Sweating Questions by 7-Second Riddles
Step 1: Observe Their Posture
Pregnant women naturally adjust their posture to accommodate the additional weight in their abdomen. Their stance usually includes:
- A slight backward lean to counterbalance the weight of their belly
- A subtle curve in the lower back
- A gentle widening of the stance for better balance
Now, look at all seven women carefully. One of them does not show these signs.
Step 2: Look at How They Are Holding Their Stomachs
In the image, six women are cradling their bellies—a common instinct for pregnant individuals. However, one woman does not seem to be holding her stomach in the same way. Instead, her hands are positioned differently, suggesting she does not have the same need to support a growing belly.
Step 3: Examine the Clothing Fit
One major clue is how their clothes fit around their stomachs.
- The six pregnant women have shirts that are slightly stretched over their round bellies.
- However, one woman’s shirt does not have the same tight stretch. Instead, it falls naturally over her stomach, suggesting she is not carrying a baby.
Step 4: Notice the Alignment of the Shoulders and Torso
A woman who is pregnant naturally shifts her posture. Their shoulders might be slightly pushed back, and their torso has a gentle forward curve. In contrast, one woman in the group stands completely upright, without any of these adjustments.
Step 5: Compare Their Overall Body Shape
When you look closely at the overall shape of each woman, six of them show clear signs of pregnancy-related weight distribution—particularly in their lower abdomen. However, one woman’s shape does not match the others.
The Correct Answer: Woman #7 is NOT Pregnant!
If you noticed all the clues, you would have identified the seventh woman (far right) as the one who is NOT pregnant.
How Do We Know?
- Her stance is different – She stands upright, without the subtle backward lean seen in the others.
- Her hand placement is different – Unlike the others, she is not cradling a belly.
- Her clothing doesn’t stretch around a baby bump – Her top falls straight down instead of hugging a round belly.
- Her body alignment is normal – She does not show the slight posture adjustments typical of pregnant women.
What This Says About Your Observation Skills
If you figured out the correct answer on your own, congratulations! You have an exceptional ability to notice details that others overlook. This skill is valuable in many areas of life, including:
- Solving problems quickly
- Identifying small changes in your surroundings
- Being more aware of people’s emotions and body language
- Making better decisions by considering small but significant clues
Video : Who’s NOT Pregnant? 10 Hard Detective Riddles With Answers
If you didn’t get it right—don’t worry! This type of puzzle is a great way to train your brain to pay closer attention to subtle details.
Final Thoughts: Keep Sharpening Your Mind!
This puzzle is a fun but effective way to test and improve your observation skills. Whether you got the answer right or not, the key takeaway is that small details matter.
If you enjoy challenges like this, keep practicing! The more you train your brain to focus on subtle differences, the sharper your observational skills will become.
Now it’s your turn! Did you figure out the answer before reading the explanation? Share your thoughts in the comments below and challenge your friends to see if they can spot the difference too!
Someone Kept Throwing Eggs at My Husband’s Gravestone – One Day, I Saw Who It Was, and It Nearly Destroyed My Life
Every Sunday, I visited my husband’s grave to feel close to him, until I found raw eggs smashed against his gravestone. At first, I thought it was a cruel prank, but when I caught the culprit in the act, I was shattered to discover it was someone I trusted more than anyone else.
I lost my husband, Owen, one year ago. It was sudden. No warnings, no time to prepare. A heart attack stole him from me, just like that. Twenty-five years together, gone in a moment.
A crying woman | Source: Pexels
For months, I felt like I was walking through fog. Everything hurt. I tried to keep things together for our kids, but inside, I was crumbling. Every Sunday, I’d visit his grave. It became my ritual, my way of feeling close to him.
The cemetery was peaceful. Quiet. Just me, Owen, and the flowers I brought each week. It felt like I could breathe there. But three months ago, something changed.
A winter cemetery | Source: Pexels
The first time, I thought I was seeing things. Eggshells. Yellow yolk smeared across the base of Owen’s gravestone.
“Why would anyone do this?” I whispered to myself, crouching down to clean it. I kept looking over my shoulder, thinking maybe it was just kids pulling a cruel prank.
A gravestone covered in eggs | Source: Midjourney
I cleaned it, thinking it was a one-time thing. But two weeks later, it happened again. This time, there were more eggs—at least six. Broken, dripping down the stone. I cleaned it again, but my heart felt heavier.
I tried asking the cemetery staff for help.
“There’s been some vandalism at my husband’s grave,” I told the man at the desk. He looked bored, barely glancing up.
A sad woman talking to a man in an office | Source: Midjourney
“You can file a report,” he said, sliding a clipboard toward me.
“That’s it? Don’t you have cameras or something?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Not in the newer sections. Sorry.”
I filed the report anyway, but deep down, I knew it wouldn’t help.
An upset elderly woman sitting on her bed | Source: Pexels
The third time I found eggs, I cried. I didn’t even try to hide it. It wasn’t just the mess, it was the feeling that someone was targeting Owen, even in death.
“What do you want from him?” I shouted into the empty cemetery. My voice echoed back at me.
I couldn’t sleep the night before the anniversary of his death. Memories of Owen kept swirling in my mind. I could hear his laugh and feel the way he used to hold my hand when we walked.
A grieving elderly woman | Source: Pexels
By 5 a.m., I couldn’t take it anymore. I grabbed my coat and decided to go to the cemetery. The sun wasn’t up yet, and the world felt still.
As I walked toward his grave, I stopped in my tracks.
Eggshells. Fresh ones, scattered around. And a figure.
A gravestone covered in eggshells | Source: Midjourney
They were standing by the stone, holding something in their hand. An egg. I froze, my breath catching in my throat. The egg shattered against the stone, the sound sharp in the quiet morning air.
“Hey!” I yelled, my voice shaking. “What are you doing?”
The figure stiffened but didn’t turn. My heart pounded as I ran toward them.
A woman standing in front of a grave | Source: Pexels
They turned slowly, and my breath hitched.
“Madison?” My sister’s face stared back at me, pale and wide-eyed. She still had an egg in her hand, her fingers trembling.
“Why are you here?” she asked, her voice low and sharp.
“You!” I snapped. “You’ve been the one doing this!”
An angry woman | Source: Freepik
Her face twisted. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me,” I said, stepping closer.
She laughed bitterly. “You think he was perfect, don’t you? The loyal husband, the loving dad. That man lied to you for years.”
“What are you talking about?” My voice cracked.
A bitter woman on a graveyard | Source: Midjourney
Madison’s eyes burned into mine. “We had an affair. Five years, Emma. Five years. He promised me everything — money, a future. But when he died, I got nothing. Not a damn cent. All of it went to you and your precious kids.”
I felt like the ground had disappeared beneath me.
“No,” I whispered. “You’re lying.”
A shocked woman on a cemetery | Source: Midjourney
“Am I?” she shot back. “Didn’t he leave everything to you? You’ve seen the will.”
I stared at her, my hands shaking. “How could you do this? To me? To him?”
Her voice turned cold. “You don’t get to judge me. He lied to both of us. He made promises he didn’t keep.”
I couldn’t speak. The words wouldn’t come.
A sad numb woman at a cemetery | Source: Midjourney
Madison dropped the egg, letting it fall to the ground. “You’ve always had everything, Emma. The perfect life, the perfect husband. Well, he wasn’t perfect.”
I watched her turn and walk away, her words echoing in my ears.
A woman walking away | Source: Midjourney
I sat on the damp ground by Owen’s grave, my mind spinning. Madison’s words were like daggers. “We had an affair. Five years.” How could she say something so vile? How could she claim that the man I had loved, trusted, and built a life with had betrayed me like that?
But the doubts started to creep in.
A thoughtful elderly woman | Source: Pexels
I thought about the times Owen had gone on last-minute business trips, always with a vague explanation. “It’s work, Em,” he’d say, giving me that easy smile. I’d never questioned him. Why would I? He was my husband.
Then there were the phone calls. He’d step outside sometimes, claiming it was “just a client,” but his voice was low, hurried.
A man talking on a phone | Source: Pexels
And Madison. She had always been close to Owen. Too close? I remembered the way she laughed at his jokes, even the ones I found annoying. The way she’d pat his arm when she thought no one was watching.
I shook my head, refusing to believe it.
An elderly woman hugging a photo | Source: Pexels
My chest ached as I stared at Owen’s name on the gravestone. “Did you lie to me?” I whispered. “Did I ever really know you?”
I barely noticed Madison storming off. She didn’t look back, and I didn’t call after her. I stayed by the grave for a long time, scrubbing away the yolk and shells with trembling hands. I cleaned it until there was nothing left but the smooth stone.
A woman scrubbing a headstone | Source: Midjourney
The next afternoon, I ran into Madison’s daughter, Carly, at the grocery store. She was holding a basket of vegetables and looked surprised to see me.
“Aunt Emma,” she said with a smile. “How are you?”
I hesitated. “I’ve been better.”
A niece talking to her aunt | Source: Pexels
Her smile faded. “It’s about the grave, isn’t it? Mom told me what happened.”
I swallowed hard. “Carly, did you know… about your mom and Owen?”
She frowned, looking puzzled. “Know what?”
“She said they… had an affair,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
A sad elderly woman | Source: Pexels
Carly’s eyes widened in shock. “What? No. She never said anything like that to me.”
“She claims it lasted five years. That he promised her money, but—” My voice broke, and I stopped.
Carly’s expression shifted to something between confusion and disbelief. “Wait. Mom told you that? She’s never mentioned anything about an affair. Ever. Honestly, Aunt Emma, that doesn’t sound like Uncle Owen at all.”
A thoughtful young woman | Source: Pexels
I stared at her. “Are you sure? She seemed so… certain. She said he lied to both of us.”
Carly sighed. “Mom’s been angry for years, Aunt Emma. You know that. She always said you had everything — a perfect family, a good husband, stability. She feels like she got stuck with the short end of the stick.”
“She’s jealous?” I asked, feeling a pang of guilt.
An elderly woman deep in thought | Source: Pexels
Carly nodded. “It’s not fair, but yeah. That’s how she sees it. But I never saw anything between her and Uncle Owen. Not once. And if something had been going on, I feel like I would’ve noticed.”
I bit my lip. “You’re sure?”
Carly nodded firmly. “Absolutely. Mom might be saying this just to hurt you. I hate to say it, but it wouldn’t surprise me.”
A confident young woman talking to her aunt | Source: Midjourney
I stared at her, unsure whether to feel relieved or more confused.
Carly placed a hand on my arm. “You loved Uncle Owen, didn’t you?”
I nodded, my throat tightening.
“Then hold onto that,” she said gently. “Don’t let Mom take that away from you.”
A woman hugging her aunt | Source: Pexels
Later that evening, I sat in my living room, staring at an old photo of Owen and me. He was smiling, his arm draped around my shoulders. We looked so happy.
Maybe Madison was lying. Maybe she wasn’t. I would never know for sure. But I couldn’t let her bitterness destroy my memories of Owen.
A woman looking at a photo of her husband | Source: Pexels
I thought about our kids, how much they adored their father. They deserved to remember him as the man who loved them, not as the person Madison was trying to paint him to be.
I wiped away a tear and took a deep breath.
“Goodbye, Madison,” I whispered to myself. “You’re not taking him from me.”
A hopeful woman in her living room | Source: Pexels
The next Sunday, I went back to the cemetery. I brought fresh flowers and placed them by Owen’s grave. The air was still and quiet, and for the first time in months, I felt at peace.
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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