Fearful of 31 Weeks

This and next week are my panic weeks. I had Trent at 31 weeks and 3 days, and I'm just about at that point with this little JellyBean. A million things go through my head daily. How would I cope with another preemie, mentally and physically could I handle it better than I did before, how well will my little family hold up in the aftermath and stress of having out baby in the hospital? I've also asked myself how the heck I'm going to carry to term (I feel gigantic already!) and after giving birth to a teeny almost 4 pounder, how will labor and delivery be with an average (or big) baby? I feel so utterly unprepared for JellyBean's arrival, whenever it may come. Sometimes I even wonder if I can remember how to take care of a newborn. It's all very unnerving.
My last appointment, I assumed was going to go smoothly as all the rest have gone. Well, for the most part it did. But my doctor told me that from my last ultrasound it looks like I'm starting to efface and dilate slightly. She did an exam to confirm, but said she's not worried to the point of wanting to send me to Calgary or Edmonton yet, nor is she worried enough to get me the steroid shot to help JellyBean's lungs if he were born this early. I know I should breathe easier, knowing that she's not overly concerned (she is one of the best OB's in the city), but still worry seeps in. I know that it can be normal for a woman's body to start to prepare for birth several weeks before the main event, I just didn't think it would be this early. I also know that I can be 100% effaced and 2cm dilated for weeks and weeks and still be no closer to giving birth than I am right now... but still.... It doesn't help my pregnancy anxiety at all when I have seem to have a nightly dream about going into labor and not having anyone around. My mind is trying to prepare myself for the possibility of driving myself to the hospital, laboring with a 4 year old in the room/on the bed/bouncing off the walls, and not having my husband be close enough to home for when the time comes. Just try to imagine a vivid pregnancy dream of driving down Taylor, sitting on a garbage bag, having to pull over to have contractions while from the backseat a worried little voice is asking what's wrong with mommy. PANIC.
I try to put the fear away. There is no room in this pregnancy or my life for it. This baby IS going to stay cuddled up, kicking and punching me for at least another 6 weeks. I WILL be able to count on and get ahold of my mother when the time comes and she will take care of Trent. My husband WILL jump off his rig and be able to make it to the hospital with lots of time for our son's grande entrance. And even if by chance he's not, I am sure I won't have to do it alone. All will work out as it's supposed to, right?!