Nearing sixty, Anderson Cooper had already ended his relationship with Benjamin Maisani, his longtime partner, when he became a father. The two ex-couples did, however, reunite, but not in a romantic setting.
It took years before Anderson Cooper and Benjamin Maisani’s relationship was made public because they were so secretive about it. The couple’s dating history dates back to 2009.
The pair was revealed to be residing together at Anderson’s firehouse home by Daily Mail in March 2018. He later made renovations to the $4 million Manhattan, Greenwich Village home he purchased.
In March 2018, after a decade of dating, Anderson’s spokesperson confirmed that the journalist and Benjamin had separated. According to reports, the CNN anchor explained the split by saying:
“Benjamin and I separated as boyfriends some time ago. We are still family to each other, and love each other very much.”
Anderson explained that he and his ex-boyfriend remained best friends and would continue sharing their lives. During an interview with Ellen DeGeneres, the television personality revealed one of the reasons that caused them to break up.
He shared how Benjamin wasn’t sure he wanted to have children. However, Anderson didn’t wait to have another partner before working on his dream of becoming a father and fulfilling it at age 53.
In 2020, when reaching the end of his segment on CNN, Anderson revealed that his first child and son, Wyatt Morgan, had been born. He also opened up about why the milestone was especially significant for him, stating:
“As a gay kid, I never thought it would be possible to have a child.”
The star shared his gratitude for the people who paved the way for him to realize his dream. He also shared his appreciation of the nurses and doctors who took part in helping welcome his son.
Following ten years of dating, Anderson’s representative said that the journalist and Benjamin had split up in March 2018. The CNN host reportedly stated the following to explain the split:
“A while back, Benjamin and I called it quits on our relationship. We still love and care for one another as if we were family.
Anderson clarified that he would continue to share their lives and that he and his ex-boyfriend were close friends. One of the reasons behind their breakup was disclosed by the television personality in an interview with Ellen DeGeneres.
He revealed that Benjamin wasn’t certain he wanted to start a family. But Anderson didn’t wait to find a new partner to work toward and realize his 53-year-old dream of becoming a father.
At the conclusion of his CNN segment in 2020, Anderson disclosed the birth of Wyatt Morgan, his first kid. He also revealed the reason the achievement held particular significance for him, saying:
“As a gay child, I never imagined that having a child would be possible.”
The celebrity expressed his appreciation to everyone who helped him achieve his dream. He also expressed his gratitude to the medical professionals that assisted in the birth of his son.
In addition, the TV celebrity shared four photos of his infant son on Instagram. The first picture shows him tenderly nursing Wyatt. He disclosed that the boy was just three days old in the caption of the photo.
He gave an explanation of how the child’s first name matched that of his own father, who died when he was only 10 years old. The second name belonged to his mother’s side of the family, Gloria Vanderbilt, and was also favored by his parents.
Anderson claimed at the time that he had discovered a list his parents had created 52 years prior while choosing his name. At birth, Wyatt reportedly weighed 7.2 pounds and was hailed as “sweet, soft, and healthy.”
The journalist also expressed gratitude to the surrogate mother for bearing him, providing him with a loving and sensitive watch, and giving birth to the boy. He also expressed gratitude to the surrogate’s family for their help both before and after the procedure.
In closing, Anderson expressed his hope that his brother Carter, mother, and father could have seen his son grow up. But he made the decision to think they could see his child, and he saw them cuddling up to each other while grinning and laughing.
He was content that their family line will live on and that their love was still present in both Wyatt and him. Anderson learned in August 2020 that Wyatt was sleeping on an unusual schedule for a youngster who was just about four months old at the time.
The newborn was getting twelve hours of sleep every night! The CNN anchor clarified that he was receiving help from a nurse and made a joke about not knowing what she did—but she didn’t use booze or Ambien—to put the youngster to sleep so much!
Anderson had one requirement, despite having help from someone else in caring for the child. The celebrity declared that he opposed having a single parent raise his child.
In May 2020, Anderson gave an explanation for his decision to not raise his child by himself on “The Howard Stern Show.” The celebrity talked about how his mother raised him and his brother as a single parent after losing his father and how she wasn’t very paternal.
He wished there had been another adult in his life to cover that absence. Someone who occasionally offered to take him out to lunch or a ball game, or who suggested having a conversation with him; the journalist added:
“Therefore, I reasoned that I would be in favor of more people loving my son and being in his life, even if nothing bad happened to me.”
He mentioned how, if it were possible, he would want to have two parents. Ironically, because of their good relationship, he and Benjamin continued to live together in their house after their breakup.
Anderson said that things were “weird” between him and the nightclub owner. Despite his early reluctance, Benjamin eventually changed his mind and is today a wonderful co-parent to young Wyatt.
The former couple resided in the Greenwich Village firehouse that Anderson purchased and remodeled in 2009. According to the celebrity, Wyatt would likely refer to Benjamin as “Papa” whereas he would be called “Dad” or “Daddy” because he was French.
Anderson quipped that the businessman was speaking to the young child in his own tongue and that he might be manipulating Wyatt by not understanding what he was saying! But the journalist denied that the ex-couple might reconcile when asked if it would be possible.
In August 2020, Anderson talked to WSJ magazine about how becoming a father had made him realize how much life had changed. Despite being 53 at the time, he talked about how he felt like he was waiting for his real life to start.
The actor claimed that he had been concentrating on moving forward or telling a tale, but that concentrating on Wyatt brought order to the situation. The anchor for the news said, “It’s changed everything.”
Due to his night shift employment, Anderson used to wake up late as well, but after Wyatt’s arrival, he now wakes up at seven in the morning. Since his son’s awakening marked the highest point of his day, it was his objective to rise before him.
Benjamin [Maisani] and the infant [Sebastian Luke Maisani-Cooper], who weighed 6.8 lbs. at birth, would also share co-parenting duties.
When the young boy saw him, he delighted to see him stretch and smile. From the third floor, Anderson went to his son’s room on the fourth, where he waited for him to make noises to let the star know he was awake before entering to see how he was doing.
The TV celebrity stated to People magazine in June 2020 that he would be willing to grow his family in the future. But first, he needed time to get a better night’s sleep and clear his thoughts!
It would be wonderful, he thought, to have a brother or sister for Wyatt. Then, on “Anderson Cooper 360°,” in February 2022, Anderson revealed that he had welcomed Sebastian Luke Maisani-Cooper, his second son, via surrogacy!
Benjamin and the infant, who weighed 6.8 pounds at birth, would also share co-parenting duties. The celebrity also disclosed at that time that Wyatt’s last name would be changed to Maisani-Cooper and that his former partner was in the process of adopting the child.
But in December 2020, following Wyatt’s birth, Anderson acknowledged that he was “tired more than I’ve ever been.” He did, however, adore being a father and “wouldn’t change it for the world,” and he frequently broke down in tears when he saw his kid.
A Mysterious Van Was Parked Across My House for a Month—One Night, I Heard a Baby Crying Inside
A mysterious van showed up across the street one day and never left. I told myself it wasn’t my business to snoop. But sometimes, the things we ignore are the ones meant to find us. I just didn’t know how much that van would change everything… until I heard a baby crying inside one night.
I’m Catherine, 32, a single mom to twin 13-year-old twin daughters… and someone who clawed her way up from nothing. People see my nice house in Willow Brook now and assume I’ve always had it together. They don’t see the terrified 18-year-old girl who once had nowhere to go.
A woman looking through the window | Source: Pexels
“Mom, we need more milk,” Phoebe called from the kitchen one Tuesday evening as I kicked off my heels by the front door.
“And can Jasmine come over this weekend?” Chloe added, not looking up from her phone.
I dropped my work bag with a thud. “Hello to you too, my precious dolls who I haven’t seen all day.”
The twins exchanged that look, the one that said they were humoring me, before both mumbling their hellos.
I smiled despite my exhaustion. My girls were growing up so fast… both with their father’s golden curls and my stubbornness. I’d done everything for them, and somehow, we made it.
Twin teenage sisters | Source: Pexels
“Yes to milk, maybe to Jasmine!” I said, heading to the kitchen. “Let me get dinner started first.”
That’s when I noticed it through the window—a faded red minivan parked directly across the street. It was a strange spot. Nobody ever parked there.
“Hey girls, do either of you know whose van that is?” I gestured out the window.
Phoebe shrugged. “It’s been there since morning. Thought it was Mrs. Carter’s nephew visiting.”
A red vintage minivan parked on a barren lawn | Source: Pexels
I frowned but let it go. In our neighborhood, everyone generally minded their own business… a policy I’d appreciated plenty of times over the years.
“Just seemed odd,” I said, turning back to the pantry.
But over the next few weeks, the minivan became a quiet obsession. It never moved. Nobody got in or out whenever I noticed. The windows were tinted just enough that you couldn’t see inside. I even asked Mrs. Carter about her nephew.
“Don’t have one,” she replied, squinting across at the mysterious vehicle. “Thought it belonged to your friend.”
“Not mine,” I said.
Days passed and the van remained.
Close-up shot of a red van | Source: Pexels
Sleep had been my enemy since the girls were babies. That night, exactly four weeks after I’d first noticed the van, insomnia hit hard again.
At 2 a.m., I gave up on sleep and decided a walk might help. The neighborhood was silent as I slipped out in sweatpants and a hoodie. The spring air held a chill that made me hug myself as I walked.
Thirteen years ago, I’d walked neighborhoods like this one… nicer neighborhoods where I didn’t belong. I still remember pushing a second-hand double stroller, desperately trying to get the newborn twins to sleep while I had nowhere to go.
“You don’t know how lucky you are!” I whispered to my sleeping street.
A lonely woman walking on the street at night | Source: Unsplash
I was rounding the block back toward home when I passed the minivan again and stopped dead in my tracks.
A cry—unmistakably a baby’s cry—was coming from inside.
I froze, my heart suddenly hammering. The cry came again, followed by a soft shushing sound. Someone was in there.
Before I could think better of it, I approached the van and knocked gently on the window.
“Hello? Are you okay in there?”
A baby crying | Source: Pixabay
Silence fell instantly. Then rustling. The side door slid open just a crack, and a young woman’s face appeared. She looked pale, exhausted, and absolutely terrified.
“Please,” she whispered. “Don’t call anyone.”
Her eyes were red and puffy. In her arms was a baby girl, couldn’t have been more than six months old. The little one was letting out the faintest, broken whimper.
“I’m not calling anyone,” I said, raising my hands slightly. “My name’s Catherine. I live right there.” I pointed to my house.
She hesitated, then opened the door a bit wider. The inside of the van was neat but obviously lived-in, adorned with a makeshift bed, a small cooler, and clothes neatly folded in plastic bins.
A van interior | Source: Pexels
“I’m Albina,” she finally said. “This is Kelly.”
The baby looked up at me with huge, dark eyes that were all too familiar. I’d seen those same scared, uncertain eyes in the mirror 13 years ago.
“How long have you been living here?”
“About a month. I move around…. and try not to stay in one place too long.”
The spring breeze picked up, and she shivered. That did it for me.
“Come with me,” I said. “It’s too cold for the baby out here.”
“I can’t—”
“You can. Just for tonight. No strings, no calls to anyone. Just a warm place to sleep and maybe a decent meal.”
A mother holding her baby | Source: Pexels
Albina looked at me like I was offering her the moon. “Why would you help us?”
I thought about giving her some line about being a good neighbor, but something in her eyes demanded honesty.
“Because thirteen years ago, I was you. And someone helped me.”
***
My kitchen felt too bright after the darkness outside. Albina sat rigidly on the couch, Kelly dozing against her shoulder as I warmed up leftover chicken soup.
“She’s beautiful,” I said, nodding toward the baby.
Albina’s face softened. “She’s everything.”
“How old?”
“Seven months next week.”
An emotional mother holding her baby close | Source: Pexels
I placed a bowl of soup in front of her. She hesitated, then shifted Kelly to one arm and picked up the spoon with her free hand. She ate like someone who hadn’t had a proper meal in days.
“Where’s her dad?”
Albina’s jaw tightened. “Gone. The second I told him I was pregnant.”
I nodded. “Yeah. Mine too.”
Her eyes met mine, surprised. “You have kids?”
“Twin girls. Thirteen now.” I smiled slightly. “They’re sleeping upstairs. Phoebe and Chloe.”
“Alone? Just you?”
“Just me. Always has been.”
A depressed woman | Source: Pexels
Albina looked down at her soup. “I don’t know how you did it with two children.”
“Barely,” I admitted. “We were homeless for a while. Living in my car until it got repossessed. Then shelters. Crashing on acquaintances’ couches. It was… rough.”
“That’s where I’m headed,” she whispered. “I had to leave my apartment last month when I couldn’t pay the rent. Dad left me this van when he died last year. It’s all I have left.”
She gestured to a small sewing kit on the table. “I make baby clothes. Sell them at the flea market on weekends. It’s not much, but…”
“But it’s something,” I finished for her.
A vintage sewing kit on the table | Source: Pexels
“I’m scared they’ll take her,” Albina said, her voice cracking as tears welled up in her eyes. “If anyone official finds out we’re living in a van… they’ll say I can’t provide for her.”
I reached across the table on impulse and squeezed her hand. “It’s not gonna happen. Not on my watch.”
Sometime after midnight, my twins discovered our guests.
“Mom?” Phoebe stood in the kitchen doorway, looking confused. “There’s a baby in the guest room.”
Albina had finally fallen asleep, Kelly tucked beside her on the bed.
I sighed. “Come here, you two. We need to talk.”
Twin sisters holding hands and standing in the hallway | Source: Pexels
The girls sat across from me at the kitchen table, still half-asleep but curious.
“That’s Albina and Kelly,” I explained. “They needed a place to stay tonight.”
“Why?” Chloe asked.
I took a deep breath. “Because they’ve been living in that van across the street.”
Their eyes widened.
“Living there?” Phoebe echoed. “Like… actually living?”
“Yes. Just like we lived in our old car for a while after your dad left.”
The twins exchanged looks. We didn’t talk about those days often.
Two little girls sitting in a car trunk | Source: Freepik
“You never told us it was that bad,” Chloe said, her eyes downcast.
“You were babies. You don’t remember. And I’ve tried very hard to forget.”
“What happens to them now?” Phoebe interrupted.
I looked at these amazing young ladies I’d somehow raised despite everything and felt a certainty settle over me.
“Do you remember Ms. Iris?”
They both nodded. Ms. Iris was practically family and the kind older woman who’d given me my first real chance.
“She found me crying outside the diner where she worked. Two babies, no home, no hope. And you know what she did? She hired me on the spot. Let us stay in her spare room. Watched you two while I took night classes.”
An older woman standing outside a store | Source: Pexels
I looked toward the guest room where Albina and Kelly slept. “Someone did that for us once. Maybe it’s our turn now.”
The next morning, I called in sick for the first time in three years.
“You sure about this?” Albina asked, bouncing Kelly on her hip as I made pancakes. The twins had already left for school, surprisingly excited about our new guests.
“About pancakes? Definitely. About you staying here? Very much.”
“You don’t even know me.”
I flipped a pancake. “I know enough. I know you’re a good mom. I can see it.”
A woman making pancakes | Source: Pexels
Albina’s eyes welled with tears. “I’m trying so hard.”
“That’s all any of us can do.” I set a plate in front of her. “Now eat. Then show me these baby clothes you make.”
Her designs were beautiful and simple but unique. Delicate embroidery on onesies, handmade bonnets, tiny cardigans… all made with obvious care despite her limited resources.
“Albina, these are amazing,” I said, examining a tiny dress. “You should be selling these online, not just at flea markets.”
A woman with folded baby clothes | Source: Pexels
She shrugged. “Online? I don’t even know where to start.”
I smiled. “Lucky for you, e-commerce marketing is literally my job.”
***
It’s been four years since that night. Four years since I heard a baby crying and found my past sitting in a minivan across the street.
Kelly often runs through my living room now, a whirlwind of curls and laughter at four years old. “Auntie Cathy! Look what I drew!”
“It’s beautiful, sweetheart,” I’d tell her, taking the colorful scribble.
A little girl flaunting her drawing | Source: Freepik
One day, Albina visited with a laptop under her arm. “Guess who just got an order from that boutique in Vancouver?”
“No way! That’s international shipping now!” I high-fived her.
“Albina’s Little Blessings” has grown from a desperate mother’s side hustle into a thriving business. Albina’s handmade children’s clothes now ship nationwide, and she has three part-time employees helping with production.
They moved into their own apartment two years ago, though Kelly still has regular sleepovers with her “aunties” Phoebe and Chloe when they’re home from school.
Sometimes I look at Albina and can hardly believe she’s the same frightened young woman I found in that van.
A woman sewing clothes | Source: Pexels
“You saved us,” she told me once.
But that’s not quite right. What I did was simple: I recognized myself in her story and refused to walk away. I broke the cycle that might have trapped another young mother in the same desperation I once knew.
That minivan is long gone now. Albina sold it last year and used the money to expand her business. But sometimes when I can’t sleep, I still find myself looking out my window at that empty spot across the street… the spot where everything changed.
A woman looking out the window | Source: Pexels
Not every cry in the night needs to go unanswered. Not every struggle needs to be faced alone. Sometimes, the kindness of a stranger is all it takes to rewrite a story.
And sometimes, the people we help end up helping us heal parts of ourselves we didn’t even know were still broken.
Lending a helping hand | Source: Pexels
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