Time flies even faster the second time around

The nurse walked in with a bottle of bright orange sugar solution to be drank before the glucose screening test. I couldn't believe my eyes. Isn't that for much later in the pregnancy? Oh My Gosh, am I already at that late in the pregnancy?
As if to reaffirm how far we've come along, the little one in my belly kicked and moved and stretched and punched vigorously, leaving me to go "oomph, ah, urgh" inwardly. Even when the midwife was listening in to the heartbeat with a doppler, we'd hear the regular "whuanks" of heartbeat being interrupted by the high screeches triggered by fetus movements. Yes, yes, someone's having a little party in there, and big enough to make mommy's belly dance with the movements. At the end of the appointment, I was also told that the next checkup would be the last 4-week one. After that, I'd be going in every 2 weeks until the 36th week. Doing a little math in my head, I realized that this is the last month in the second trimester. How did that come to be? I was told by several been-there-don-that moms that the second time around, time flies at a even scarier pace. They were right. When I was pregnant with the little girl, I marked the passing of every day. Ask me how far along I was and I would be able to rattle out the precise week and day without thinking. With this little one, though I am celebrating and cherishing every moment the baby is in me, I have only a vague idea of what week this is. I suppose with the little girl there was so much unknown and so little distraction to detract me from wondering about the unknown. With this little one, there is still a lot of unknown, but I have the little girl to keep me grounded, and I am also more confident in my ability to handle what may come.
I must say, the passing of time makes me wary. I do not want to miss out any important milestones or developments of the new one simply because my life is now a bit more full, a bit more hectic. Only if I could make sure every minute of my little ones lives are pressed and seared and preserved forever in my mind.