One of the sad byproducts of our current medical technology is that children who are seriously ill or seriously injured now live, whereas a century ago they would quickly die. Now, quite often they survive and even thrive and have more or less normal lives for decades.
What usually gets lost in the shuffle is the stress that a child's illness puts on a marriage. Families in the US with a child undergoing long-term (six months or more) treatment for a serious illness or injury have a divorce rate far higher than that of the general population. The last time I checked, it was above eighty-five percent.
The usual progression goes like this. The mother becomes the primary caregiver, either because she isn't working or her job brings in less money and she can quit. Even when health insurance makes a contribution, the financial pressure builds up, and if the father is the only wage earner, that burden falls directly on his shoulders. And his wife can't help or spend time dealing with him because she's spending so much time with the sick child. Intellectually, the dad knows what's going on and he understands, but emotionally he gets drained because this is his kid too, and he's grieving just as much as his wife is. But he doesn't have the outlets she does. Men in the US are far less likely to attend support groups or accept financial help from friends and relatives. They're less likely to cry in front of their wives about their pain, because they think that would put more of a burden on mom than is already there. And she's not there for him because she's with their sick child, and he feels unappreciated and even unwanted. Any healthy children in the family only add to the stress, because they will feel shut out too, and they usually don't have the maturity to understand that it's not their fault that Mom and Dad are yelling at each other - or worse, not talking to each other. And the sick child feels guilty too, and usually tells Mom about it instead of Dad. This can create resentment aimed from Mom to Dad, and Dad usually doesn't understand why he's getting the cold shoulder from his wife all of a sudden - unless she blames him for their child's illness. So their communication withers on the vine, too.
And most dads hate going to the hospital to visit their sick children. They have this vision of their sons or daughters as tall, strong, vibrant reflections of themselves and the wives they love, and seeing that child in bed in pain is devastating. And there's not a blessed thing he can do about it! That's terribly frustrating for a man, especially one who's used to taking care of his family and fixing things around the house.
So the stress builds and builds, and sometimes the bond between husband and wife gets rubbed raw and snaps. They separate, and because they have little or no time to reconcile, they often complete the divorce.
It's sad.
This is not meant to excuse Clark's behavior, but to explain it. I know something of what he's going through. He's acting like a dad who foresees his son's funeral. He's trying to insulate himself from the pain, trying to protect what's left of his heart. It won't work, of course, but no one can tell him that.
Except maybe Lois. This Clark has been betrayed in some powerful way by Lana, and he has a hard time trusting others, especially women who aren't his mother. Anything Lois does to help him with Jory is a threat to him, no matter how pure her motivation might be. He doesn't want Jory's death to cause him too much pain, but he's also jealous of the little time he has with this wonderful little boy. And Jory's conditions - the progeria, the deafness, the headaches - are telling him that he's not nearly as super (or as much a man) as he thinks he is. It's a false message, but it comes across on an emotional level, and because he's so close to the situation he can't see it.
Be patient, Lois. Keep loving Jory, even if you aren't his mother. You're already the closest thing he knows to a mom, and he's not going to let that bond go. Just smile at both Clark and Jory and love both of them. It'll take time - a lot of time - but I think it'll be worth it in the end.
